Operation Blackbird
by crisser
Summary: When Annalise realizes her divorced dads are still in love, she is desperate to find out what really went wrong all those years ago. But the truth alone won't set her free. She has to fix it. And so Operation Blackbird begins.
1. Chapter 1

Hello darlings!

If you're familiar with my other writing, you'll know that I tend to write long-chaptered fics that update once a month until they're abandoned. _**This is not one of those fics**_. I have made sure of it. I'm not good at sticking to my projects, but this one will be different. To ensure this, I have made a detailed outline for where this fic will go (and, yes, end) and the updates will be short but frequent and _**not**_ abandoned. That's a promise! I will _try_ to update every day, because I have nanowrimo in November and this should be finished by then. Eek. Also, rating may change. If you're looking for PWP then this is not it.

Without further ado, please enjoy this new fic of mine. I've had much joy with it so far.

* * *

**ANNALISE ANDERSON HUMMEL: BLAINE'S APARTMENT, KURT'S APARTMENT: FRIDAY AFTERNOON**

* * *

Fridays only meant one thing: ship off.

Every kid with divorced parents knew the drill. One week here, one week there: never staying in one place for too long. Fridays were ship off days for Annalise, as she so nicely named it in her head.

Annalise sat on the living room couch in white leather, the one that had been a compromise between her and her dad Blaine. He had wanted brown leather, and she had wanted something that wasn't quite so stereotypically masculine. She was texing her friends in their group chat about meeting up and doing something that didn't involve coffee or schoolbooks. And her phone keeps buzzing.

Buzz, buzz.

_Diana: We could go see a movie?_

Blaine came home to find her there, waiting for him. He only kicked his shoes off before he joined her on the couch, suit and briefcase and all. He practically collapsed next to her, head leaning back on the back of the couch as he took in their living room view of the Empire State Building. It was a view he had earned from hard work at the law firm.

Buzz, buzz.

_Reilly: I guess we could do that…_

"Hi, sweetie," he sighed, closing his eyes.

"Bad day?" she asked, typing on her phone.

_Me: After homework and coffee that's all we do. Broadway?_

"Mmmph." He hummed for a moment then straightened up. "Rough case that won't end. The defense won't stop making farfetched accusations that wastes everyone's time because everyone in that court room, including themselves, know that their client is guilty. I mean, the mens rea is clearly-"

"Daddy, you're doing that thing again," Annalise warned.

Buzz, buzz.

"What thing?"

_Clara: I just saw the only show remotely interesting last week._

"You know, when you're unloading on me like I'm your partner instead of your daughter?"

Blaine ran a hand over his face, the gesture only adding to his look of exhaust. Annalise had deliberately chosen the word partner over boyfriend, because she didn't want him to have even more worries on his mind. Yes, she knew about his boyfriend, the boyfriend he was so desperately and miserably failing to keep from her. He may try with all his might, but if you would open a dictionary to the opposite of subtle, it would say 'Blaine Anderson'.

But she wouldn't say "If only you had a boyfriend to talk to…" either, because she didn't want her dad to have a boyfriend. It was not like she was desperately pining for her dads to get back together, because she knew it would never happen, but if Blaine introduced his boyfriend to her it would be serious, and final. As long as he kept being secretive, it wasn't too serious. She wasn't worried.

"Sorry," Blaine apologized, rising to his feet. "You keep telling me that, and I keep forgetting that you're just a spoiled twelve year old who wants nothing but the good sides of life."

Annalise gaped at her dad, but he just grinned.

"I am not spoiled!"

"Oh yeah?" He nodded down to the iPhone in her hands just as it buzzed. "I'm sure you worked long and hard for that phone-"

"It was your present to me for my last year as an under-teen!"

"-and your designer clothes-"

"You know Daddy loves to buy me clothes."

"-and your credit card."

"It's expensive being a true-bred New Yorker." Annalise plastered on a bright smile. "It's only because you and Daddy love me so much."

Chuckling, Blaine smoothed her blonde hair and leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead.

"That's very true. Which is why I will shut up about my job and keep treating you like a princess even though your grandparents scold me about it every time they see us."

Annalise got up from the couch, intent on grabbing her bag of necessities from her room.

"You better."

* * *

"You know, I really don't get why you and Dad are so against me going alone. After all, I'm almost a teenager, and it's not like I'm never alone in town at night. I can take care of myself."

Annalise got into the elevator and Blaine followed, pressing the fourteen for Kurt's floor.

"Wait, backtrack on that." Blaine held up his hands in front of him. "When have you _ever_ been alone in town at night?"

Annalise idiotically put a hand to her mouth. "Um, never?"

Blaine only shook his head. "I'm not gonna let Kurt take you away from me until we sort this out."

True to his words, as soon as Kurt opened the door to his apartment with a smile, Blaine spoke up.

"Did you know that Annie has been alone in the city in the middle of the night?"

Annalise walked past Kurt in the doorway into the apartment, sighing a little louder than what the situation actually needed. She dropped her heavy bag on the floor and tried to look anywhere but her dads faces. The truth would come out now, wouldn't it?

"God, Dad, way to exaggerate things. It was hardly in the middle of the night."

"What did I miss here?" Kurt asked, closing the door behind him and Blaine.

Blaine strutted across the room with his arms crossed over his chest. Annalise knew that look: he was trying to bea scolding parent. She did her best to humor him.

"Why don't you tell us what you meant?" Blaine asked while Kurt got into a mirrored pose next to him.

"I was just saying…" She sat down on the comfortable couch and pulled her knees to her chest. "I'm not a baby anymore, so you don't need to treat me like one. In fact, you shouldn't."

"In fact, you should come clean about your midnight runaway story."

It was Blaine who said this, of course. He was the exaggerating parent.

"It was a lie, okay?" But she could see on her dads' faces that they didn't buy it, so she settled for the truth. "I wasn't alone, really. Fine, on the way back and forth…"

"Oh no," Kurt deadpanned. He softened his pose, sliding down next to her on the couch.

Blaine kept his utter look of oblivion. "Oh no, what?"

Kurt moved his glance to him. "There is a boy." Then back to Annalise. "Is there a boy?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"A boy?" Blaine squeaked. "Aren't you too young for that? You're _twelve_! You're supposed to want horses, not boys. Boys have cooties!"

Kurt rolled his eyes and put a hand over Annalise's. He smiled lopsidedly.

"What is his name? Is he cute?"

"His name was Luke, but I only went out with him to make Brandon jealous." She shrugged.

"Not Brandon Halley, son of George and Felicity Halley?" He saw the way her face lit up with a giddy smile. "Oh no, honey, you can do way better than him. Just because he's popular doesn't mean he's the best out there. Or the cutest. What about his younger brother who is more appropriately your age?"

"Because his brother is a nerd. All he does is reads."

Blaine had watched them in silence, eyes darting between the two while continuously growing wider. Until he finally burst.

"Am I the only one who realizes Annie is _twelve_?"

"Oh, please," Kurt scoffed. "When you were twelve you were already horning over Oliver Johnson, don't act like you never told me that."

Blaine's face reddened like a beetroot, jaw slacking.

Kurt and Annalise laughed.

"Who's Oliver Johnson?" Annalise asked in her high, innocent voice that always managed to lure out gossip from an eager mouth.

"He's your dad's first crush," Kurt explained. "Back in Ohio where we're both from, it wasn't common that gay kids were honest with their sexuality, especially not at such a young age. But Oliver was, and Blaine was head over heels for him. I don't blame him. The kid even had a photogenic yearbook photo."

"I need some water," Blaine muttered and disappeared out into the kitchen.

"Happy to have you home, sweetie." Kurt kissed her forehead, and it happened to be in the same spot Blaine had kissed her just an hour earlier. "I'm gonna check on your dad and then I'll start making dinner, okay?"

He disappeared too, and Annalise took the opportunity to fish her phone out.

_Me: I know: Fro-yo._

She rose from the couch to see what her dads were up to, and to ask what they were having for dinner. However, when she was just about to round to the kitchen she stopped in her tracks. Peeking out behind a wall, she looked at them and couldn't believe her own eyes. She had to blink several times to be sure she wasn't seeing things.

Kurt had his hand on Blaine's arm, and he was talking softly to him with a smile. Blaine was looking at the floor, but a squeeze of Kurt's hand brought his eyes up.

Oh no. He did not just do that. He did not just look at Kurt through his eyelashes with a smile shyly tugging at his lips. Annalise may not have seen Blaine with a boyfriend, but there had been plenty of pretty store clerks in her days to know what her dad's signature move was.

She leaned back against the wall, out of sight. Her head was spinning, or so it seemed because her thoughts were racing. How was it possible that she had just witnessed her dads flirting? With each other?! Her _divorced_ parents.

Whenever the question came up, the answer was always the same: _we just don't love each other anymore. They just fell out of love, but that doesn't mean they love you any less._

But they were wrong. It was all a lie. Nothing she believed her whole life was the same now.

And it made sense.

Kurt had never dated anyone for ages. She only distantly recalled a guy from when she was little. He was married to his work, he always said with a laugh, as if solitude was something to be proud of. And Blaine kept his breezy boyfriend a secret, because that way it could never be serious.

They were still in love.

But how was it possible?

Annalise had no idea, but she would sure as hell find out. She would start with finally getting to know the truth of what went wrong between them, and then she would mature. She would age until she was ready to take her parents' issues into her own hands and solve them.

She had no idea how on earth she would manage to pull it off, but she would. She had to. If Kurt or Blaine wouldn't do anything to make them a family again, she would.

All she needed was a brilliant plan.


	2. Chapter 2

ANNALISE ANDERSON HUMMEL: KURT'S APARTMENT: FRIDAY NIGHT

* * *

When Blaine left, all traces of anything being out of the ordinary left with him. Kurt started making dinner – zucchini lasagna because Annalise was a vegetarian – and acted as if nothing weird had ever happened. Everything appeared as if it was just another Friday. Except it wasn't.

Everything was different now, and it brought a tingle of happiness to Annalise's stomach. Because the truth was that she was miserable. Yes, she loved her friends and she had nothing to really complain about so far in life, but there was a misery that stemmed from her dads. It felt awful to think that, but it was true. Seeing her dads could make her feel like the happiest person alive, or it could bring incredible sorrow.

Kids realize much more than parents give them credit for. Like whenever Kurt cried to a romantic movie, even though they were often super sappy, Annalise knew it wasn't because he thought it was beautiful but because he didn't have that himself. At least, that was what she used to think. Now she wondered if it was because he didn't have that _anymore_.

When you had divorced parents, you sometimes forgot that there once was a time when they were deeply in love.

She had to find out what happened.

When it knocked on the door, she almost expected it to be Blaine. Only it wasn't. It was Rachel, Kurt's business partner and best friend. She sometimes came over for dinner or to hang out or, like in this case, to bring work home. Whatever Rachel did, she did all the way.

Work was all she talked about when they were eating, and Annalise was annoyed that that was all Kurt was doing too. As if work was so special that it needed to be discussed on end. Annalise didn't get it. They would be going to work tomorrow, too. What was the big deal?

"We have to be on top of everything this time," Rachel said, sipping a glass of red wine from the bottle she had brought over. Apparently it was extra expensive. The bottle still looked the same to Annalise.

"No last minute surprises like with the Saunders," Kurt agreed. "If Aisha Lyle trusts us with her wedding, we will not disappoint."

"I can't believe I'm meeting Aisha Lyle, and that we're planning her wedding!" Rachel squealed. "This is by far the highlight of my career."

"Same for me," Kurt said excitedly, raising his glass. "To our future endeavors."

Rachel clinked her glass to Kurt's. "To future endeavors."

"I don't get it, who is Aisha Lyle anyway?" Annalise asked. She got two pairs of distrusting eyes on her.

Kurt was the one who recovered first. "She is a really influential person in the fashion industry. Her work began in the early eighties and she has been flawless and fearless ever since."

"So, she's a model?"

Kurt grimaced as if the wine in his glass had turned sour. "She's a designer, honey." Then he returned to his grown up conversation with Rachel.

Annalise leaned an elbow on the gray wood table and poked in her lasagna. It was delicious as always, but she wasn't hungry. She was too anxious to eat. When Kurt rose from the table to fetch some papers from his bedroom, she perked up. Rachel took a bite of her food, and chewed it while smiling.

She brought her wine glass to her mouth.

"Why did my dads get a divorce?"

The contents of Rachel's mouth sprayed into her wine glass. It was mostly red wine, but little pieces of chewed food floated in the red liquid. Annalise had to look away to not gag. The question had obviously caught Rachel off guard, and she dabbed her mouth with a beige fabric napkin, those unreasonable ones you have to wash after every use.

"Wh-what... What makes you ask that?"

"I was just wondering," Annalise said with a shrug. Then she raised her tone of voice, switching to her light gossip voice. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I just figured I would ask you because… well, from one girl to another."

"But you know what happened," Rachel reminded her. "You've been told the story many times."

"You're wrong."

Rachel was about to protest, a sort of condescending smile playing at her lips. But Annalise wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"Yes, I know that they fell out of love, but that's not what happened: that's the consequence of what happened. Isn't it?"

Rachel's mouth hung open as if she was about to speak, yet the words wouldn't come to her.

"Nobody actually told me what happened," Annalise said softly. "All I've been hearing my entire life is that they fell out of love, nothing else. How did they decide to break up and _why_? It's not a sudden decision. Did they think about it for years or did they make the decision after an argument? I just want to know."

Rachel closed her mouth and shook her head. "If none of your dads have told you then I don't think it's in my place to do so."

"But, Rachel, come on-!"

"No buts. They're waiting until you get older to tell you, I think, because it's hard for young people to understand. Heck, even I don't understand it sometimes. And someone in your biased- um, in your position might not see the truth clearly and be able to take it for what it is. I know you may think the truth will set you free, but it won't. Life is more complicated than that. Your dads will still be divorced. You knowing the truth won't change that."

Annalise nodded in agreement, because she did agree to a certain point. The truth wouldn't fix things, Rachel said accurately. But Annalise also disagreed. As soon as she found out what went wrong, she could start to fix it. She would just have to find someone willing to talk to her, or at least point her in the right direction.

She knew exactly where to turn.

* * *

_So this chapter was pretty short. But that just means the next one will come even sooner! Maybe later today if the next chapter comes along smoothly._

_Please let me know if you like it so far!_


	3. Chapter 3

BLAINE ANDERSON: BLAINE'S APARTMENT: FRIDAY NIGHT

* * *

The living room of his apartment never truly got dark at night. It was because of the windows, he knew. They were so tall, and the sky was never fully black. The streetlights of the always awake city lit his apartment permanently, sometimes so much that he could close all the lights and still be able to see what he was doing.

That's what he was doing now as he emailed his office about Monday's trial continuation. If someone would have walked in on him then, they probably would have asked what he was doing, sitting there in the dark. Of course, they wouldn't know. It was Blaine's apartment, his treasure, and he only enjoyed still moment like these when Annalise was at Kurt's. He only enjoyed them when he was alone, so of course nobody knew. That was why he was the only one who knew that he wasn't sitting in darkness, not really. He liked turning the lamps off so he could sit in the light.

No one really understood that.

There was a sort of melancholy that hung over him during his childless weeks. He didn't quite understand how it happened. He wasn't miserable; in fact he was very happy. He had a great job, a huge apartment, and didn't have to worry about money. Not anymore.

There was a part of him that still clung to the rough, old days. The days with Kurt. It was a special time for him, one he would never forget. But he didn't understand what had provoked the moment they'd had today when he'd dropped off their daughter. It didn't make sense.

He'd spent a fair share of his life missing Kurt, but that phase was through now. Being through made him happier.

That was when his cell started vibrating on the living room table, next to where he had his feet perched.

He moved his Macbook from his lap onto the couch and leaned over his phone to see who it was. Was there a saying opposite to 'speak of the devil'? Because it had to be a strange coincidence that his new boyfriend was calling him just as he was thinking about his ex.

"Justin," Blaine breathed into the phone and rose from the couch.

"Hey, Blaine," the voice on the other end said softly, and Blaine could imagine a smile forming on Justin's lips as he spoke his name.

"Is it a bad time?"

"Not at all." Blaine went up to the panorama windows of his living room and leaned against the glass. "I was just finishing up some work."

"You always do." Justin paused, which seemed like a hesitation.

"Was there something you wanted to talk about?" Blaine asked. He cast his eyes downward and imagined – as he sometimes did – what would happen if the windows would break from his weight. He would, without a doubt, start falling.

"Yes, actually."

He almost wanted to. Fall, that was.

"I have a vague memory of one Blaine Anderson…"

He wanted to fall, to be flung by the wind, spiraling downward with a force unstoppable against everything. He wanted to feel the tingle that bordered on pain in his gut, and the relentless touch of emotions that were connected to it.

"…promising me a date."

He wanted to fall, but Justin's voice always grounded him.

"I have a memory of that too," was all Blaine said, not able to put full emotion into his words. They were supposed to be flirtatious, but they ended up sounding weak and helpless.

Like he said, his week of melancholy had begun.

"I'll be away over the weekend, like I told you before-" The sound of pages flipping reached Blaine's end of the phone. "-but how about Monday night? You can tell me all about that court case over dinner."

Blaine suppressed a sigh and forced a smile, even though no one could see him. The last thing he wanted to do when finally seeing his boyfriend after a while apart was to discuss work. But he didn't say that.

"That would work fine."

"The usual place?" Justin inquired.

"Yeah," Blaine only said. He felt tired, and didn't want to tell him that he was getting sick of their usual place. He wanted to try something new. But he knew Justin, and he was a man of tradition. If Blaine told him he wanted to try somewhere new, he'd be the one stuck with the dirty work. And he felt tired.

"See you then."

"See you then," Blaine echoed, and ended the call.

He noticed then that it had started raining. Not much, just barely. Small droplets hit his windows, and the sound was soothing. The clouds looked almost black in the night, and it darkened his apartment considerably. But he didn't light the lamps.

He sat down on the couch again, but as soon as he put his phone down it vibrated again.

_Annalise Calling._

Blaine didn't hesitate before picking up the phone.

"Did you forget to bring something with you?"

The other end was silent.

"Annie?"

But he heard movement on the other end, so he knew she was there.

"Can I ask you something, Daddy?"

Blaine's smile was genuine now. "Of course. Anything."

"Anything?" Her voice was soft, almost sad. "Why did you and Daddy get a divorce?"

The phone almost slipped out of Blaine's hand and he gripped it tighter.

"Um, why- why do you ask?"

"Nobody's ever told me the truth." Why did she sound so sad? Did something happen in the short time she'd been over there? "All I've heard is that you don't love each other anymore, but nobody tells me how it happened."

"It's hard to explain, honey," Blaine said hesitantly. He was looking for the right words to explain. "We had been in love since we were kids, but when we got older and moved to New York it just wasn't the same."

"But why?" she pleaded. "There has to be _something_."

There was something. Blaine ran a hand over his face, leaning back in the sofa.

"We had money problems, and it tore on us. I know it's not easy for you to understand, because Kurt and I have always done everything we could to provide for you. But it was bad, and it wasn't working for us anymore. It tore on our spirits just as much as our relationship."

What he said was true; it just wasn't the whole truth. The whole truth was something he could never tell her, because he was ashamed. He had betrayed her and he never wanted her to know it. He would not have been able to live with her knowing how he let her down, not when she was his whole world.

"I think I understand," she said finally. "It makes sense."

Blaine wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but she beat him to it.

"Can I ask you something else, Daddy?"

"Go ahead."

"Was there something you two used to do, or somewhere you used to go, when you were together?"

This phone call was turning into the strangest one he had had in a while.

"Um…" he said, ransacking his brain for memories he hadn't allowed his mind to enter in a long time. "There was a place we always went to in college, a café down by the financial district. We went there when we had a lot to study, because they had one of the fastest public WiFi access points. And I loved their coffee while your dad loved their fresh juices."

"What was it called?"

"Kaffe 1668," he said, and he heard her type on her laptop. "Kaffe with a K."

"That's a strange name."

"It's Swedish for 'coffee'," he told her. "I remember how Kurt would talk to one of the founding brothers of the cafe about Sweden, where he was from. Kurt always wanted to go to Stockholm after that, let me tell you."

Annalise giggled on the other end, and Blaine grinned at the sweet sound even though it was distant and sounded too mechanical over the phone.

"Was there any other place?"

A part of Blaine wondered what this sudden interest of hers came from, but he figured that if she wanted to spend her Friday night talking to him, it couldn't be too bad.

"Of course. We got around a lot in the old days." He chuckled. "Let's see… Once when we were new in town we got lost in Central Park-"

"How do you get lost in _Central Park_?"

Blaine felt heat creep into his face. A part of him told him that he shouldn't be telling his daughter these things, and another part was telling him he shouldn't even be thinking about them.

"We were young and in love, and we were too busy looking at each other to notice any path signs. This was in late November the fall we moved to the city, and it was freezing outside. So after we had been lost for two hours we finally stumbled back to civilization. We were cold and needed refuge wherever it would be provided- I remember us being lost and fantasizing about things to keep us warm."

"Dad!" Annalise said in a strangled voice.

"Not like _that_," he said, even though there had definitely been talk of _that_ too. "Like, coffee and blankets and knitted scarves. And when we finally found our way back, there was this place – I think it was called Sarabeth's – right there. We went in and ate delicious pastries and drank hot cocoa. Despite the cold, it was an amazing day, one of my best ones in the city. When we were taking the subway back to our tiny, shoebox apartment, it even started snowing. I remember telling Kurt that the day was magical."

Too late, Blaine realized he was smiling. He was walking down a dangerous path, one he'd been on far too many times.

"And it was," Annalise added.

The smile faded from his lips, his throat suddenly choked. But he managed to squeeze out two little words.

"It was."

A while later, when they'd hung up, Blaine went back to his email. He realized then that he'd forgotten that he had yet to turn the lights back on. But he didn't make any attempts to change to do so.

After all, he kind of liked sitting in the dark.

* * *

_That was it for chapter three! I hope you enjoyed it!_

_I'm actually proud of myself for publishing so much in such a short time, haha. I'm probably going to stick to writing author's notes in the end of the chapters now. And now I can reveal that the fic will have multiple POVs, and there will probably be 22 chapters. So, way more to come!_

_Remember, reviews are love 3_


	4. Chapter 4

KURT HUMMEL: CENTRAL PARK: SATURDAY DAY

* * *

The day couldn't have been more beautiful. The sun was out, it was warm yet not excruciatingly so, and he was out enjoying it with his beautiful daughter and his best friend. It was supposed to be a day for him and Annalise to spend some time together, but to his surprise she had asked Rachel if she wanted to join them. Not that he minded.

It had been Annalise's idea to go to Central Park. He had suggested that they'd go to his friend's art gallery, but she had been insistent. It was like she could predict the weather and just know that it would be a perfect day for the outdoors.

Kurt wouldn't be surprised if that was actually the case. His daughter was amazing.

So far, Rachel and Annalise had been discussing a guy Rachel had met at her and Kurt's last wedding gig. Kurt had told her that meeting someone at a wedding was cliche, but that had only made her turn to Annalise.

Walking in Central Park, Kurt felt a little unnecessary.

"Aaand, I'm all out of coffee," Rachel said, tilting her paper cup upside down over her mouth, willing the last drops to come out.

"You know what I'm craving?" Annalise said, grinning. "Brownies."

Rachel put her arm around Annalise and looked at Kurt. "I like the way your girl thinks."

Kurt shook his head even though he was smiling. Those two would never stop pairing up against him, would they?

"I thought we went to the park to enjoy the nice day, not to get away from it?"

Annalise sighed. "If it was up to you we'd all be holed up in a room somewhere, our clothes starting to smell like indoors and oil paint."

"I happen to like that smell," Kurt lied, mentally shuddering at the thought of his clothes smelling foul.

He watched as Annalise escaped Rachel's arm and put her arms around his waist. She looked up at him through her lashes, and he had to hold back a curse because _why_ did she have to take after Blaine's signature move? It still weakened him, and it probably always would. Of course he would do anything she wanted.

"Please, Daddy," she said, fluttering her lashes while pouting her lips. "I have wanted to try the brownies at a place close by forever, and we're here now. It's just on the other side of The Pond. Won't you go with me?"

Sighing, Kurt moved a blonde strand of hair away from his daughter's eyes. He looked up at Rachel, and found her smirking at him. He knew what she was thinking; she was not one to keep her opinions to herself. He knew it too - that he was spoiling Annalise - but he couldn't help it. He wanted to give her the world and more.

"Sure, we can swing by."

If he had known what he'd be agreeing to, he would have thought twice.

When they were walking away from the park and were about to cross Central Park South, he finally saw it. The place still looked the same way it had all those years ago. Sarabeth's.

"Where exactly are we going?" Kurt asked, and he realized his voice was uneven.

His heart started beating faster when she pointed at the place he feared she would.

"Oh."

He remembered his cold, bare hand holding Blaine's as they ran across the street toward the place. He'd brought gloves, obviously, but he hadn't worn them. He had wanted to feel Blaine's skin against his own, and all the cold in the world would have been worth it.

"Are you okay, Dad?" Annalise asked when they had crossed the street. She was watching his face with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Annalise nodded, yet exchanged a look with Rachel that he didn't quite understand. Yes, he knew that look. The raised eyebrow, the faint smile, and the slight tilt of her head all meant a silent _I told you so_, but he didn't understand why she was giving Rachel that look.

"Let's go then," Rachel said, quite sternly.

There was a nervous tingle in his stomach when they entered the place, and Kurt just nodded when the girls asked him if he wanted a brownie too. He didn't even realize he was doing it until it was too late. He had planned on turning it down because he didn't feel like stomaching anything at the moment.

Rachel and Annalise felt lucky to get a table by the windows, but Kurt didn't. It was the exact same table he had sat at with Blaine over a decade ago.

Rachel started picking on her brownie. "This is a nice place. Maybe a bit crowded."

Annalise smiled. "I think it's really nice. Don't you think so, Dad?"

Nodding, Kurt took a bite of his own brownie and chewed slowly, deliberately. It seemed as if the bite would never dissipate. Despite it, he enjoyed the flavor. Sarabeth's chocolates had a specific characteristic to it that he couldn't quite pinpoint, and he'd told Blaine the same thing back in the day. Back then, they had shared a piece of chocolate cheesecake. Even though brownies and cheesecakes were completely different, they still shared the same sweetness.

_Their forks scraped against the white porcelain in a soft rhythm, cutting the cake piece by piece. Kurt brought a bite to his mouth and closed his eyes when it started melting in his mouth. He knew he shouldn't satisfy his gluttonous side, but when he was around Blaine he couldn't stop himself. Blaine made him forget about rules and necessities, and all he wanted to do was just to enjoy and enjoy and enjoy._

_The small café was bustling with life around them. Forks and knives hit plates, the air was dense and moist with coffee steam, and despite the busy hour they had managed to score a window seat. _

_It had been unnecessary though, because just like during the hours lost in the park they only had eyes for each other._

_"__That is incredibly delicious," Blaine moaned, and Kurt opened his eyes._

_"__It makes me forget how cold I am." A lie, and then a chuckle. Blaine was what made him forget._

_He would have blushed if his cheeks hadn't already been rosy from the cold._

_"__I know that today probably was a lot different from what you'd expected…" Blaine began, slowly piercing the cheesecake with his fork over and over. _

_Kurt put a hand over Blaine's to still the nervous movements. He was starting to feel sorry for the cake._

_"__Blaine, I love you. While I could've done with a little less cold, it was still a great day. I don't regret a thing."_

_"__Really?" Blaine looked into his eyes with such concern, such sincerity, a look he would come to know very well. A look that would end up breaking him. But that day, he still loved it. It wasn't broken yet. "Because I know we don't have a lot of time with school and work to just be with each other, and I was the one in charge of today's-"_

_"__Blaine," Kurt said, his voice to the brim with laughter. "Slow down! I bet reaching that carousel would've been incredibly romantic, but... I don't care! Not anymore. When I was sixteen, all I cared about was romance. But that was before I met you. Now I just wanna be. Just being with you… that's enough for me."_

_A smile finally found Blaine's lips. His shoulders slumped, as if they were relaxing. _

_"__I want to give you the world, but at the end of the day I'm just a boy," Blaine said lamely._

_Kurt shook his head. "Not a boy. You're a man. My fierce man. And as long as I can say that, you don't need to worry about a thing."_

"Are you sure you're okay, Kurt?" Rachel asked.

He didn't trust his voice, so he took another bite of the brownie with a smile and nodded. For the rest of the day, he did his best to keep up with Rachel's and Annalise's conversation, saying a word or two whenever necessary. Yet Rachel would occasionally sneak glances at him with her big, brown eyes, and the look of concern remained on her face for the rest of the day.

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed!_


	5. Chapter 5

ANNALISE ANDERSON HUMMEL: KURT'S APARTMENT: SATURDAY AFTERNOON

* * *

If there was one thing Annalise had, it was tact. She hung out with her dad and Rachel in the living room, and she was pleasant the whole time, all smiles and laughter. But as soon as Kurt excused himself to go to the bathroom, she was on Rachel like a leech.

"You saw him, I know you did," she said and scooted up to Rachel on the couch. She saw her tense. "You were best friends with both of them, they must have told you about Sarabeth's and that day. You saw how Dad reacted, didn't you?"

At first, Rachel looked like she was going to deny everything. Maybe come up with a skilled lie that explained it all, and Annalise didn't doubt she could. After a moment's consideration, something shifted in his facial expression and she seemed to change her mind. She threw a glance toward the bathroom, still no sign of Kurt, and bit her lip.

"Yes, I know about their Central Park day. The magical day. It wasn't just a special day for them, you know. It was our first snow day in New York. The power went out that night - this was back in the beginning when we all lived together: me, your dads, my boyfriend at the time - and... that was the night we decided that the four of us would be close forever." She shook her head in disbelief. "Things change, that's what I'm saying."

"You're still Kurt's best friend," Annalise reminded her, as if she'd forgotten. "While your gang drifted apart, you and Kurt didn't. And I don't think my dads did either, despite what they've been saying. Kurt hasn't told you anything, anything at all? If there is something he has been thinking or feeling- has he ever mentioned Blaine?"

"No, I swear, I had no idea about this." Rachel's voice grew vary. "That is, if you're right. He's never said a word, maybe you're wrong?"

Annalise glared at her.

She sighed. "Why would he never have said anything? Not even to me?"

"Rachel, what happened all those years ago? The truth this time."

But Rachel looked too stunned to get a word out. She was looking into space, suddenly not seeming to be listening at all.

"Please," Annalise whispered. "I need to know."

Rachel leaned back, relaxing her body.

"I'm not sure what to tell you. They grew apart. Work separated them, and has kept them busy ever since. You know how they are. Kurt and I are always planning something new at Weddings As You Wish, and I'm sure Blaine is busy at Guy &amp; Anderson's. The two of them are just at a point in their lives where they don't have time for boyfriends."

"Blaine has a boyfriend," Annalise said before she could stop herself. It was a bad habit she carried. She always said things before thinking about the consequences.

Looking at Rachel, she knew she'd made a mistake. Rachel's eyebrows were furrowed and her jaw slack.

"He does?!" she whispered incredulously.

"Yes, I've heard him on the phone a few times when he thinks I'm sleeping." She shuddered at the thought of his dad, talking like he did to someone who wasn't Kurt.

"Are you sure? Blaine doesn't seem like the type to keep those type of secrets." She was shaking her head, no doubt thinking about Blaine's utter oblivion, too hopeless to conceal any sort of secrets.

"Who else would he be saying 'I miss you, babe' to? And, 'I can't wait to suck-'"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, young lady," Rachel yelped, holding her hands up. "You should not be saying those things. What am I saying? You should not be _hearing_ those things."

Annalise shrugged. "I can't help it, I like gossip."

"And eavesdropping, it seems. But Blaine having a secret boyfriend..." Rachel tilted her head to the side, no doubt thinking it over. "I just can't believe it's true."

"Can't believe what's true?" came a voice behind them.

Rachel looked terrified when Kurt sat down again. Her eyes were big as saucers and her lips were pressed in a thin line. Her stare bore into Kurt relentlessly.

She was not going to be of any help.

Annalise rolled her eyes. "That I got a 'D' on my last English paper. I'm sorry, Dad, I've been thinking about how to tell you." She elbowed Rachel in the side, who was now staring at her with the same expression.

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "A 'D' huh?"

Annalise nodded slowly.

"I'm sure she will do better next time," Rachel supplied.

"Unless you forgot," Kurt said, "you showed me an English essay two weeks ago because you were proud of it. If I'm not mistaken, we celebrated your 'A' by getting you anything you wanted from Nordstrom."

Annalise literally face-palmed, hiding her face in her hand. "I forgot about that."

"Mhm," Kurt hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. "So what was it about, really?"

Rachel gave Annalise a look, then turned to Kurt. "Annalise... had sex."

"What?!"

"What!"

Kurt and Annalise looked at each other with different levels of incredibility.

"Rachel, that is so not true, why would you even say that?" Kurt asked, trying to sound calm.

"My palms are sweaty," Annalise mumbled, wiping her hands up and down her jeans.

"Why don't you two tell me the truth?"

Both Annalise and Rachel became victims of Kurt's scolding, and it made them feel equally immature.

Annalise would have gone to the end of the world before telling her dad the truth, and she thought Rachel agreed.

She was wrong.

"Blaine has..." Rachel began uncertainly.

"Rachel!" Annalise squeaked, her eyes wide in alarm.

Kurt looked paler than usual, if that was possible. "What? ...Cancer? A tumor?"

Rachel shook her head. "A boyfriend."

Kurt released a shaky breath while Annalise and Rachel held theirs. Then he surprised them by laughing.

"That's _it_?" He could barely speak, his whole body shaking with laughter. He tried to breathe properly, and wiped a tear from his eye. "Oh, you two. You're gonna be the death of me."

"You're not upset?" Rachel asked.

"Why would I be? He is entitled to do whatever he wants with his life."

It seemed as if Annalise was the only one unable to speak. She didn't know what to think, she had no words. He didn't care that Blaine was seeing someone else?

Annalise excused herself and locked herself into her bedroom. She closed the door behind her, her mind uneasy. How could he not care? Did he care even though he said he didn't? Annalise thought about it, but pushed the thought away. It didn't seem likely, due to how he reacted when he saw a freaking _café_.

While he didn't seem faced by the thought of Blaine seeing someone, he had gone into shock when he thought Blaine was sick. There was no doubt he still cared about Blaine.

Grabbing her laptop, Annalise moved onto her bed and opened her email. She pressed the small icon for a new email, but hesitated. Her hands hovered over the keyboard, wondering if she was going to do this. She knew she couldn't do it alone. She entered her friends' email addresses into the receiver's field, then moved the cursor to the subject line.

She started typing.

_Calling all birdies for Operation Blackbird_.

Oh yes, she knew certain things. Her dads may have chosen to keep her in the dark about why they split up, but they hadn't kept everything away from her. They had wanted her to know their past even though the future looked different than they'd planned.

So she knew about _Blackbird_. It had been a weekend at Blaine's when they were eating takeout in the kitchen, listening to an oldies station. Annalise had been against it at first, but Blaine had made it into a game. For every song they heard, they had to tell a memory that song made them think of, even if they had never heard the song before.

And then they'd played _Blackbird_. Good old Beatles. It had been Blaine's turn, and he had told her about the day he fell in love for the first and only time.

_"__You've never been in love after Daddy?" she asked curiously, taking a spring roll between her thumb and index finger. It was getting cold, but she still devoured it in three bites._

_"__No," he answered, his hand stopping before the noodles hanging from the chop sticks he was holding reached his mouth. "When you get a little older and have your first love, you'll realize that nothing will ever quite compare. First love burns the brightest, it's true."_

_She frowned. "Do you think you'll ever be in love again?"_

_He actually chuckled. "No. But I probably will. It's hard to avoid. Love always finds a way, somehow."_

_"__What about Daddy?"_

_"__What about him?" Blaine stuffed a bunch of noodles into his mouth, one of them leaving a wet splash of sweet and sour sauce on his chin. _

_"__Do you still love him?"_

_Blaine stopped chewing. He took a gulp from his water glass and washed the food down. Then he put his chop sticks aside. _

_"__You know why we got a divorce, sweetie," he said patiently. "Sometimes love isn't enough. No matter how much you cling to the past, it won't ever be anything but history."_

_Annalise wanted to feel sad when he said that, but she couldn't. She blamed the sauce stain on his chin, shiny and orange. It made her want to laugh._

When she had typed up the email and hit send, she put her computer aside and unlocked her bedroom door. She opened it as quietly as possible, tiptoeing until she was just out of reach for the living room.

Kurt and Rachel were still there, talking.

"You don't you meet someone, too? It could be good for you, Kurt."

"You and I both know I don't have the time. Weddings As You Wish has the most significant wedding coming up with Aisha Lyle, one that could define the future of the company. Besides, finding someone new takes so much effort. Getting to know them, seeing if you fit... I don't have the energy for that right now."

Annalise thought back to the night with Blaine and the oldies game. She had eventually pointed discreetly at her chin, mumbling, "Sauce."

He had just said "oh" and wiped it off with his hand, but even that small gesture had looked lonely.

Annalise sneaked back into her bedroom.

_Don't worry, Daddies, love will find your way again real soon._

* * *

_Things are gonna start happening pretty soon! I wish I could tell you guys more than that, but you'll have to wait and see..._


	6. Chapter 6

KURT HUMMEL: KURT'S OFFICE: MONDAY MORNING

* * *

The phone had been calling off the hook in all offices of Weddings As You Wish's building that morning. The word had escaped to the press that they were arranging Aisha Lyle's wedding to Thomas Hayes (the Wall Street broker), and every fashion magazine and financial magazine in the district wanted to get a journalist onto the guest list.

All Kurt was doing was ignoring as many calls as possible while trying to make the phone stop ringing for long enough so that he could make calls himself or, god help them, so that Aisha herself could squeeze in a call.

Either of those had yet to happen.

"If it's this crazy _now..._" Kurt muttered.

"This wedding will definitely make us famous by the time we're done with it," Rachel agreed.

"I just hope the wedding will live up to her expectations so that the press won't write poor things about us," Kurt mused. "That would be pretty bad publicity. A job like this could either make us or break us."

Rachel closed the door to Kurt's office and sat down on his desk. Kurt looked up at her from where he was sitting on his desk chair, skimming through a pile of wedding magazines for the latest thematic trends. They desperately needed a theme pitch, and so far Kurt was all out of ideas. It had to be the pressure. Having to come up with something so magnificent that it would be talked about for decades was not an easy task. Sure, it was the bride and groom's job (oh, who was he kidding; the bride's job) to have a view of what she wanted the wedding to look like, but it was the wedding planners' job to put all her ideas together into something remarkable. And for that, they needed a theme.

"Listen, I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

"Can it wait?" Kurt threw the magazine on the floor and picked up another one. He tore through the pages so frantically that they almost broke. "I have to have at least three pitches for this wedding before our meeting with Lyle-" The phone blared again, and this time Kurt picked it up and slammed it right back on. "-and the fucking phone won't let me concentrate. It's just there, constantly making itself heard so I won't forget how important this job is. Oh, believe me, phony, I haven't forgotten!"

The sound of paper ripping hit his ears, and he looked down at the torn page in his hand and sighed. "Did you call Lyle's secretary?"

"Yes, I told her that our main line was busy. She seemed to understand. She will have Lyle call me on my cell in the afternoon to set an appointment."

Rachel leaned over and grabbed the pile of magazines from his desk and dropped it onto the floor, then tore the one he was skimming through from his hands.

"Rachel!" he squeaked. "I don't have the time right now!"

"So make the time! Anyway, this will only take a minute."

"It's taken half a minute already," Kurt sing-songed.

Rachel glared at him.

"Okay, _fine_. What did you want?"

"It's about Annalise."

Kurt's eyes narrowed. "I'm listening."

He had no idea what Rachel wanted to tell him that was so urgent, but if it was about his daughter then it couldn't be good news.

"She has started asking me questions – a lot of questions – about why you and Blaine split up."

Leaning back in his chair, Kurt folded his hands together with a shrug.

"That's nothing new."

"It is, though, because this time she doesn't believe it when I tell her you two fell out of love. She thinks there's still something between you two."

His throat went dry. "Why would-" His voice was raspy and choked, so he coughed and tried again. "Why would she think that?"

"I have no clue what brought it on, but I think she will keep inspecting it until she finds out what really happened."

"Sarabeth's," he groaned. "I should have known."

"Yeah, well." Rachel stood up from the desk, hovering uncertainly. "I just wanna know what I should tell her."

There was always the option of telling the truth, but he knew Blaine didn't want her to know. And he wasn't sure _he_ wanted her to know, either. Yet he had no idea what lie to feed Rachel with, one that Annalise would buy. He was too stressed at the moment to think of one, so he did would do the only thing he could think of: postpone it until he was ready to deal with it on his own terms.

"Don't tell her anything," he said. "I'll talk to her."

"Do it soon, she's been very persistent," Rachel said, walking toward the door. She turned around with a hand on the door knob. "Just so you know, I think it would be easier to just tell her the truth. She's twelve now, and she's a lot tougher than she looks. I think she could take it. Besides, if you tell her what she wants to hear, she'll give it a rest."

"What she wants to hear?" Kurt asked tiredly.

"That despite what happened, you still love him."

He was about to protest when Rachel flung the door open.

"Save it," she said. Her voice lowered. "I know you."

Then she closed the door behind her.

The phone on his desk kept ringing, but he paid no attention to it. He retrieved the pile of magazines, an idea for a theme forming in his head. It was good, a really good one, and it fit Lyle and Hayes perfectly.

There was a bunch of post-it notes on his desk, and he reached for it, scribbling down the name for the first theme pitch.

_As Time Goes By._

It was quite brilliant actually. A classical themed wedding, elegant yet extravagant, with a focus on a love that – despite ups and downs – outlives all turmoil that life throws throughout the years. He hoped that this wedding would become to Lyle and Hayes what the song _As Time Goes By_ had been to Rick Blaine and Ilsa Lund in _Casablanca_.

It was a perfect theme for the rocky yet solid love story of Lyle and Hayes that the media gushed over.

Of course, he ignored the thought that it would've been the perfect theme for two other people, too.

* * *

_Phew, I thought the little writer's block I had with this chapter would never make me finish this in time..._

__I hope you liked it! And yes, it IS quite a coincidence that the perfect wedding theme was inspired by a character named Blaine, isn't it, Kurt? ;)__


	7. Chapter 7

ANNALISE ANDERSON HUMMEL: KURT'S APARTMENT: MONDAY NIGHT

* * *

Night had already fallen when her dad came home that night. He looked tired, and she didn't doubt that he was. He had left the apartment at seven in the morning – she knew, she had heard the door slam behind him – and now he came home at eight in the evening.

She watched him from the living room couch as he kicked his beloved shoes off and tossed his bag on the floor. The only thing he showed the tiniest bit of care for was his coat that he removed and hung on a hanger in the hallway closet.

He went into the kitchen without even glancing her way, heading straight for the fridge. He opened the door and peered in, no doubt finding exactly what Annalise had found an hour earlier: ketchup, apple juice, and a half eaten taco.

Sighing, he turned around and finally noticed Annalise.

"What do you feel like?" Kurt asked her, sitting down next to her on the couch and grabbing his phone. "Chinese, pizza, burgers?"

"Dad, I'm a vegetarian."

"Garden burger?"

Annalise rolled her eyes. "I was thinking of running down to seven eleven and get a salad. Do you want me to bring you anything?"

"You're a growing young woman; you need something foodier than salad."

"Because pizza is the foundation for a healthy lifestyle?"

Kurt chuckled. "I guess you're right. Bring me a salad, too. Caesar, if they've got."

"Sure thing." Annalise got up and kissed her dad's cheek before going into her room and grabbing a hoodie. When she came back out, her dad was still sitting on the couch, and he even had his legs on the coffee table – something he always scolded her for doing. His eyes were closed, and his breathing steady.

Annalise smiled to herself while she put her shoes on. It was pretty great that 7-eleven was just a block away, especially on nights like these when her dad was too tired to cook or on nights where he called her to let her know he'd be working late. Sure, she could always order in, but she preferred 7-eleven for two reasons. One, their food was ready to go, so no waiting. Second, whenever either of her dads were working late as they so often did, walking that one block or two always felt good. She would often feel lonely when her dads couldn't be home, and stepping into a pair of designer boots and entering the lively New York City night always served as a mild remedy for that. It reminded her that she lived in the greatest city on Earth, so how could she possibly feel sad?

"Annalise!" a voice called when she entered the shop.

"Aayan," she greeted back, waiving at the man behind the register before moving toward the readymade foods. She grabbed a Chicken Caesar for her dad and a Garden salad and some Yoplait for herself. She picked up a couple of vitamin waters and moved to the register.

"How have you been, little girl?" Aayan asked as he scanned the items.

"Good, good." Annalise opened her wallet and fished out the credit card that Blaine had gotten her four months ago. "How's Farrah doing?"

"Oh, just great. She's excited about starting first grade. She will be a great scholar one day. I hope she'll go to Columbia, but I'll have to wait and see what she wants when the time comes."

Annalise grinned. "I swear, if my dads were like you I'd be scared to get anything but straight A's."

When they said goodbye, Annalise promised she'd be back soon. She liked it when Aayan was at the store. He usually wasn't, because he was the owner of it and only filled in when necessary, so when he wasn't there Annalise would have to force pleasantries with some pimpled college boy clerk. She didn't mind the other people working there, but the college boy was always reading some book and she felt like she bothered him whenever she came by. It was stupid, really, because she was the customer and he should be thrilled she was there to keep the store from having to lay him off.

When she walked the block back to the apartment, she thought about how strange life was sometimes. She wondered what her dads would say if she told them she was friends with a really cool store owner and that sometimes when she was lonely at home she'd go down to him and just hang. She didn't do that a lot anymore, because ever since her friend Diana broke up with her first boyfriend she'd had time to hang out again. It was very convenient, because Diana lived only six blocks away.

Her dad was awake when she came back, sitting at the table where he'd put two plates and forks. Annalise put the bag of food on the table and went to the kitchen to get two glasses.

"What are you typing so much about?" she asked and put the glasses onto the table.

Kurt put the phone aside and rummaged through the bag for his salad. He opened the lid and poured the content onto his plate.

"Rachel," he said with a wave of his hand. He opened his drink and gulped right from the bottle. His throat was dry and the water helped. "She's having some problems with work."

"What kind of problems?" Annalise stuffed a tomato into her mouth and chewed it slowly.

"Someone wants to be our client and won't take no for an answer." Kurt shook his head at the thought. "I'm so happy I don't have to deal with the practical sides of the company."

"But why are you saying no to a job?"

"Well, we have the Lyle and Hayes thing, and we can't let anything distract us. I don't have the manpower or time to deal with a second wedding when one of them is so prominent. Like I told Rachel to tell the person: they deserve a nice wedding too and right now we're not in the position to give it to them."

"Huh, okay." Annalise kept eating.

"Actually," Kurt said, putting his fork down, "there was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

Annalise looked up from her plate, watching her dad suspiciously. "Yeah?" she mumbled around a piece of lettuce. She knew she hadn't done anything wrong, though that didn't stop her mind from trying to come up with things she might have done to deserve a "talk".

"I spoke to Rachel today. She told me you'd been asking some questions about me and your father."

Annalise didn't reply, only wondered where he was going with it.

"I don't know what suddenly brought it on, because we've told you many times what happened. But if there's something you want to know, I'd like you to talk with me or your dad instead of going behind our backs. You can ask us anything. You know that, honey."

"Well, the reason I've been asking is because you have never actually told me. All you and Daddy have done is brush it off with lies."

"That's not true," Kurt said defensively. "No, we haven't felt the need to get into all the little details, but we have never lied to you about what happened."

"Oh yeah?" Annalise crossed her arms over her chest. "Isn't avoiding the truth the same as lying? I don't have a clue what happened, and that's the truth. Maybe I want the details, Dad. Did you ever think of that?"

"Okay, fine." Kurt pushed a crouton around on his plate. "Your dad and I... we were busy with our jobs and trying to make our finances work with all our bills and student loans. We were married and adopting you was the best thing that happened to us. But things weren't work anymore. Blaine lost his job at the small law firm he worked at due to budget cuts, and I couldn't support all three of us on my small wage."

"But why did you split up because of that?"

"Because the struggles tore on our marriage, and our relationship could only handle so much."

Annalise nodded, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he wasn't telling her.

"I still don't get it. Yeah, okay, say your relationship was really bad and you didn't have any money. If that was the only problem then it would be solved when Daddy got a job, wouldn't it?"

Kurt shrugged. "I guess."

"So why did you decide to get a divorce?"

"It's complicated," was all he said.

Annalise wanted to reach over the table to slap him, because fuck that, _fuck_ _complicated_.

"I'm not a little kid anymore that you need to protect! I can handle the truth! I mean, unless you don't trust me enough to believe me when I say that."

"I trust you, of course I do."

Annalise scoffed.

"Honey," Kurt said sternly, "if you honestly want to know the truth, then I will tell you."

She narrowed her eyes. "But?"

"But... you should know that everything we did back then had nothing to do with you, and that we did what we thought was the only option we could live with. Do you understand?"

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that both your dad and I made some stupid mistakes that we can't take back. But if you honestly want to know, I will tell you right now. No more lies."

Annalise swallowed. Neither of her dads had been this honest with her before, and she knew when Kurt was being sincere. This was it, she realized. She would finally get to know what happened.

Her heart started racing when she spoke.

"Go on."

* * *

_Ooooh, exciting stuff! What do you think Kurt will tell her? How did both him and Blaine screw up in the past?_

_You'll find out in the next chapter ;) Bye for now, lovelies!_


	8. Chapter 8

BLAINE ANDERSON: ANNISA, 13 BARROW ST: MONDAY NIGHT

* * *

It's a nice night out in the city, and a perfect night for a date. He and Justin had met up at their usual place for dinner, and so far it had been a nice night out. Not too crowded, not too loud. Nice was the keyword.

"How was your sea bass?" Justin asked. He had his usual crooked smile on his lips and his eyes sparkled in the dim candlelight.

"It was nice." _Like always_, he thought.

He remembered the first time he met Justin. It had been two weeks after Christmas. The city and the people in it were basking in the bittersweet feeling of the holidays coming to a close. Blaine had seen him in the busy crowd of a Brooks Brothers sale. There had been people huddling around in a frenzy, and there he'd been, standing still in the middle of the restless tumble. Blaine hadn't been able to look away.

He had been mesmerized by Justin, his green eyes and killer smile, his body and his attitude toward life. Justin was a breath of fresh air in a stale room. But – despite all Blaine's efforts, his belief that this time would be different, that Justin was different – he had been wrong. Blaine didn't like thinking about it too much, because when he did he realized that this relationship was heading down the same path as the rest of them did. As soon as the seed of doubt had been planted in his mind, it was only a matter of time before he found the faults, he grew distant, he realized that the relationship he had been so committed to was boring him. And he would have to break the bad news to the guy.

Every single relationship he'd had had ended the same way ever since…

"A penny for your thoughts?" Justin inquired.

It was sentences like those that used to make Blaine think Justin was charming and classical, which now only sounded unoriginal and uninspired to him.

He had no idea what to tell him, though, because he wasn't sure he was ready to get into the truth just yet.

Luckily, he was saved. His phone started vibrating in his pocket, and he reached for it with an apology.

"No cell phones in the dining room," Justin reminded him.

"Right, sorry." But when he was going to decline the call he saw the called ID. _Kurt Calling_. "Uh, I have to take this. It's Kurt, something might have happened to Annie."

Justin nodded and sipped his rose wine (who drank rose anymore anyway?) as Blaine slipped out of his chair and took the call.

"Hang on," he told the phone and made his way through the parties dining in the small venue. He walked through the room, passing the bar as he sped toward the entrance. He pushed one of the wooden double doors open and stepped out into the night. "Hey, sorry about that."

"No problem," Kurt said, his voice sounding hesitant. "Is it a bad time?"

"Did something happen to Annie?" Blaine countered.

"No, no, it's nothing like that. I… I didn't interrupt anything, did I? It's not that important, we could talk tomorrow. I just figured I'd take a shot and see if you were available."

"It's fine, Kurt." Blaine shifted on his feet. "So…"

"I told her," he said. "I told Annalise why we got divorced."

Blaine's heart sped up. "You mean…"

"Yeah. You should've heard her; she had been all over Rachel with questions and it was making her uncomfortable. So I talked to her about it but she wouldn't let me keep any details from her. I made a judgment call and I told her. Are you mad?"

"No," Blaine exhaled. He walked a few steps, feeling uneasy standing right outside the big restaurant windows. Even though it was dark outside and brighter in the restaurant, which would make him able to see them but not the other way around, he felt uneasy standing there. Call him paranoid, but he could feel the young bartender's eyes boring into him from inside the restaurant.

He stopped and pinned his eyes on the brick wall on the other side of the small, deserted street. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, because he should have been mad, right? He had dreaded Annie finding out, but now that she knew he almost felt relieved.

"So you told her everything?"

"Yeah."

The sound of rustling sheets came from Kurt's end of the phone, and Blaine smiled. The image was so clear in his mind, and he realized some things never changed. He could see it clearly, how Kurt was lying in bed with his brown-rimmed glasses low on his nose, a laptop buzzing in his lap as he did some work before sleep. Blaine always wondered why Kurt would be so persistent about it, but he explained that if he worked last thing before sleep, he felt like his mind would work out all kinks and problems while he was sleeping. Apparently he loved when he woke up feeling like all his issued had been resolved.

"_Everything_, everything?"

"_Yes_."

Blaine nodded to himself, leaning against the building behind him.

"You told her that I took the job in Chicago."

It wasn't a question.

"I did."

"And that I moved and left her behind."

He could hear the sound of Kurt's glasses being put on the nightstand. He knew that sound well: he'd listened to it every night for several years. The nightstands changed, but the sound remained the same.

"I told her everything," he said simply. "That you got a job offer you couldn't pass up on because you weren't in a position to do so. That I was the one who brought up the divorce because I couldn't bear the thought of letting my life slip by while waiting for your _indefinitely_ to change to something definite. That we agreed on that it was no way to live. That you moved away, leaving her with me for the time being. I even told her about what happened afterwards. We got the divorce, you moved away, and not even a year later your company offered ten people to transfer to their New York office. You had moved away and moved back within a year. But I had been seeing someone, someone who had helped me get over you, and I wasn't ready to let go of him."

"And that you didn't trust me anymore?" Blaine asked. "Did you tell her that?"

_In another time, in another place, Blaine would have felt at home coming to Kurt's apartment. Now all he felt was lost. Kurt knew he was coming back, he had told him. Still, that didn't mean Kurt was ready for him. As it turned out, he was far from._

_"__What are you doing here, Blaine?" Kurt asked him, in a voice so uneven, so vulnerable, and so far from his own. "I told you not to come."_

_Blaine could only see half his face, because Kurt wouldn't open the door more than that. He wouldn't let him in. _

_"__Please, Kurt. Can we talk?"_

_Kurt cast his eyes to the floor. He didn't reply. Instead, he opened the door just enough to slip out, and shut it behind him._

_"__You left, Blaine," he said, looking up. His eyes were simmering with emotion. "You left even though I told you not to, so you can't expect me to just take you back."_

_"__I know that. But you know I had to take the job."_

_"__Yeah, I do. What I don't know is why you wouldn't let us go with you. It made me wonder, so much, and I finally think I've got it." _

_Kurt's hand hovered over the door handle like a warning. _Step on a mine and I'll explode_. Blaine tried to tread carefully, but he had stumbled onto a minefield. He hadn't even realized he was in a war zone. _

_"__It was a very convenient excuse, wasn't it? You got a job you had always wanted and you got a fresh start in a new city with nothing and no one to hold you back."_

_"__That's not true." There was no end to his frustration. He fumbled for words, but none came that were good enough. At least none good enough to fix things. "I would've done anything to get a job in the city, to keep you and our daughter! I know you're hurt, but think about what's best for Annie here."_

_"__I'm not thinking about Annalise?" Kurt's voice was filled with rage, but it was subtle. Anyone who didn't know him wouldn't have noticed. _

_Blaine noticed._

_"__I just meant- you know I've been doing what's best for her even from a distance. Have I not sent you enough child support to let you keep the apartment?"_

_"__It's that what this is about? Are you blackmailing me? Guilt-tripping me?" _

_Kurt's hand gripped the door handle tight, and Blaine started to sweat in his suit. Minefield._

_"__No, that's not what I'm doing." He reached up to loosen his tie. If he wasn't wrong, he saw Kurt soften at his obvious display of unease. "I just want you to think this through before you do something irrational."_

_"__Irrational." Kurt felt the word in his mouth, tried it out. He nodded. "That wouldn't make me the only one."_

_"__When have I been irrational?"_

_"__When you told me you had to go and that I had to stay."_

_"__I couldn't let you give up your job at Vogue. I couldn't take your dreams from you."_

_The sound of a door opening startled Blaine, and he noticed that Kurt had pressed down the door handle and pushed the door ajar. _

_"__You were my only dream, Blaine, and you took it from me. You knew that, yet you did it anyway." He let the door slide up. "I don't even work at Vogue anymore. Rachel and I plan weddings now. I like the irony in that. Anyway, I'm just doing what you asked me to eleven months ago: I'm letting you go."_

_The sound of the door slamming behind Kurt shook Blaine to the core, and his body wouldn't stop shaking. The door slamming in his face kept coming like an echo. Boom. Boom. Boom._

_One wrong step was all it had taken to place his relationship on a minefield. _

_One wrong step and he had made an explosion inevitable._

"I told her we both made mistakes."

And that was that.

When Blaine went back into the restaurant, walking past the prying bartender's glare, he sat down on his chair across from his boyfriend.

"I'm sorry about that."

"Everything okay?" Justin asked, looking bored.

Blaine looked down at his food that had gotten cold. He no longer had an appetite.

"Not really. But I think it will work out. You know, eventually."

* * *

_There it is! Was it anything like what you expected? And what will Annalise do now that the truth is out?_

_To be continued..._


	9. Chapter 9

ANNALISE ANDERSON HUMMEL: CANDLE CAFÉ, 1307 THIRD AVENUE: TUESDAY AFTERNOON

* * *

The Third Avenue café was busy like always, but she didn't care. As long as there was a table available for her and her friends when she came there, she didn't care. She liked the pulse that never stopped beating, that never died.

They got to business as soon as they'd sat down.

"You're right, they are totally still in love," Diana agreed when Annalise had finished telling them what her dad had told her the night before.

Reilly nodded enthusiastically and sipped her coffee.

"The question is how I can fix it," Annalise said, pulling up Google Maps on her phone.

"You said your dad Kurt was planning a wedding, right?" Clara asked. "It would be _so_ romantic if they would get back together there somehow."

Annalise grimaced. She didn't know how that would be possible, and she wouldn't want to do anything to distract her dad while he was working on a job that was so important it would make him work late two days in a row. Of course, it was a pretty good idea in theory.

"I have to admit, it would be romantic… I'm just not sure how it would work."

"That's what you have us for, right?" Diana grinned and brought her phone up from her bag. "Do you know any details of the wedding? When, where, that kind of stuff?"

"No," Annalise said dejectedly. "I mean, all I know is that it's gonna be pretty soon because my dad is working off the clock with the planning. I asked him, and he told me Aisha Lyle wanted it to wrap up pretty soon since the word's out now. You can only deal with incessant press for so long, I guess."

"I can't believe your dad's throwing her wedding!" Clara gushed, resting her head in her hand dreamily. "Do you think he could get me in?"

"Focus," Diana said, snapping her fingers in front of Clara's face, which made her recoil and almost fall off her chair.

Diana laughed her ass off, and Diana's laugh was always infectious. Annalise didn't feel like laughing at the moment, but it still made her chuckle.

"Okay, but how soon do you think? So we can get a time frame?"

Annalise bit on her left thumbnail, which was starting to get drastically shorter than the rest. She didn't know why, but her left thumbnail was the only one that had fallen victim to her bad habit.

"A few weeks maybe? I will ask."

"A few weeks, okay." Diana typed it on her phone, and Annalise glanced at the note.

_When: a few weeks._

"And where?"

"No idea, I don't think they've decided yet."

"There has to be more than just the wedding," Reilly suddenly said, still looking at her phone. "What about that café Blaine had told you about?"

"I've tried that," Annalise said, sighing. "But I have no idea how I would get them both there at the same time. Well, Blaine works nearby so it wouldn't be impossible, but Kurt… I have no idea how I'd get him there."

"If we're doing this whole wedding thing, what would the _thing_ be?" Clara asked.

Diana glared at her, but she continued. "I mean, say we use the wedding to get them back together. But I doubt sticking two people at a wedding will make them admit their love and get over past issues."

Diana rolled her eyes. "Fine, what do you suggest?"

"The wedding could be a last stop, which we'd figure out when we got that far. Before that, though, I think Annie should pretend like she wanted to have dinner with both her dads, but actually just set them up on a date."

Diana gave her best stare, not dignifying her suggestion with a response.

"What? It works! Why else would they do it all the time in the movies?"

Annalise was about to provide a snarky comment on her own when her phone started buzzing in her hands.

"It's my dad, Kurt." She took the call, shushing her friends. "Hi, Dad!"

"Hi, honey. Listen, could you do me a quick favor?"

Annalise frowned. "Sure, what's up?"

She could hear papers being moved around, and what sounded like a book falling to the floor.

"Shit," Kurt mumbled on the other end. "Could you go to the kitchen for me? There's a note on the fridge and I need to know if the bridal fitting was scheduled for four or five on Friday. It's the bridal shop called Lovely Bride, not the other one." He sounded distracted when he spoke.

"Oh, I'm actually not home, Dad. Sorry."

"Oh. That's… alright. Could you check it for me when you get home? And call me when you know?"

Diana held up her phone, and Annalise read what she'd typed.

_Ask about the wedding date._

"Sure. But Dad…"

"Yeah?" Kurt hesitated. "Is something wrong?"

"No. It's just… I know you're busy with the wedding coming up so soon, but try not to kill yourself, okay?"

Kurt didn't say anything, but Annalise knew he was smiling. "Sure, I'll try not to."

"When is the wedding anyway?" she asked as nonchalantly as she could muster.

"Almost two weeks from today." Papers started rustling again. "We don't have a venue, flowers, a dress… all we have so far is a church and a caterer with the menu. That is why I'm working so much. But in two weeks everything will go back to normal, okay?"

"Sure. I'm gonna let you get back to work so you don't get home at midnight."

"Thanks, hun. See you tonight. Love you."

"Love you, too, Dad. Bye."

When she'd hung up, she was met by three pairs of expectant eyes.

"Well?" Diana asked, waving her phone, ready to type in any new information.

"The wedding is in less than two weeks. They don't have a venue, or a dress, or flowers… well. They will have a dress on Friday."

"What happens Friday?" Clara asked.

"They have an appointment at Lovely Bride to find a wedding dress. That's why he called me, to ask if the appointment was at four or five."

"Oh my God, I'd do anything to see Aisha Lyle trying out wedding dresses," Clara said dreamily.

"Stay with us, Clare," Diana warned.

"Wait." Reilly finally looked up from her phone, her straight black hair falling away from her face. "Lovely Bride here on Manhattan?"

Annalise shrugged. "I guess. I don't think they'd go anywhere else. Why?"

By now Clara and Diana were watching Reilly expectantly, too, and Reilly turned her phone to show everyone the map she had pulled up on it.

"Because it's just three blocks away from Kaffe 1668."

Annalise's jaw dropped, and Clara got a huge smile on her face.

"You wanted a way in," Reilly said, the corners of her mouth turning upward. "There you have it."

"Yes!" Diana threw her hands up in the air. "That is prefect! Just go with him to the bridal shop and then take him there afterwards."

"Except it isn't," Annalise realized. "He's going there on Friday at four or five. I'm going to Blaine's on Friday. Why did it have to be Friday of all days?"

"No, but it _is_ perfect," Reilly disagreed. "Tell Kurt you want to go with him to the fitting. Say it's for a school project or something so he can't say no. And then you take him there afterward. Call Blaine and tell him to meet you at the bridal shop when you're done. Only, say you'll be done later than you will be. Then you make an excuse to get Kurt to the café, and call Blaine and tell him you're waiting at a café nearby for him to pick you up."

She leaned back in her seat, a look of accomplishment on her face.

The look of incredibility on Diana's face didn't come off even as she spoke. "That's actually brilliant."

Annalise nodded approvingly. "It's good."

Clara folded her arms over her chest and scoffed. "I still think you should set them up on a date."

"I still could," Annalise reminded her. "But the issue is how I'll make them realize they're still in love, and admit it."

"Wasn't that was _Blackbird_ was for?" Clara asked.

"Yeah, but it might not be enough. We need more to be sure."

"We've got time," Diana said. "A few days, at least. Start with the café, and we'll take it from there."

"You're right. But… like Clara said, just sticking them in a room together won't be enough."

"What do you suggest?" Diana asked.

Annalise looked at her pitiful thumbnail before balling her hand up in a fist and hiding her thumb in the middle of it. Her bad habit would have to stop.

"I have to remind them about why they fell in love in the first place."

"How are you gonna do that?"

"Not without help. I know the story of how they got together but I have no idea what made them fall in love." Annalise bit her lip. It wasn't a good habit either, but it was better than her lone nail. "I'm going to need to get to the bottom of it."

"You think your dads will tell you?" Clara asked.

"I don't know," Annalise said. "But I won't go to them for help. It's taken this long for them to tell me why they split up, and I don't have much time. I'll have to turn to other sources."

"Like what?"

Annalise held up a finger and scrolled through the list of contacts on her phone. When she found the number she was looking for, she hit the call button and put her phone to her ear.

"I know someone else who was there. Someone who knows."

Three beeps went through before the person on the other end picked up.

"Hi pumpkin, how's work?"

"Hi Rachel," Annalise said sweetly. "I know you ratted me out to Dad."

Rachel giggled on the other end. "Oh, you."

"I want to thank you."

Rachel silenced. "Thank me?"

Annalise heard a door shut on Rachel's end, and Rachel exhaled.

"Your dad's left."

Annalise rolled her eyes. "Do you really call Brody 'pumpkin'? I know you two are dating, but really-"

"No, I don't really. You surprised me, that's all."

"Yeah _right_. Anyway, you talking to Dad made him tell me everything I needed to know. You helped, like I told you you would. You owe me ten bucks."

Rachel groaned. "I still don't understand why he told you the truth. Whenever we talked about it he made it very sure that he wouldn't tell you anything until you were at least twenty, had moved away from home, and possibly had a family of your own. I always told him that he would never end up telling you the story if he thought he got away with the lie, and he would always get this smug look on his face like that was the whole point. Well, I'm happy I could help, at least."

"You did, and you can."

"I'm sorry?"

"I said, 'you did', because you did help me, and 'you can' because there is still a couple of things you could do for me."

"What are you up to now, Annalise?" Rachel sighed. "I don't like going behind Kurt's back. He's my best friend"

"And as his best friend, don't you want him to be happy?" Annalise hummed when Rachel stayed silent. "I need you to tell me anything about how they fell in love that could help me."

"Stuff like what?"

"Like _Blackbird_, but more. Help me out here."

Rachel seemed to think about it. "I don't remember it all off the top of my head, but definitely _Moulin Rouge_. They watched it all the time. They even said they wanted to get married to _Come What May_. They didn't, but... anyhow. I also know that when Blaine wore casual clothes like sweats and t-shirts, Kurt could not take his hands off him. I know this because I had to live with those two longer than I would've liked to, and it happened more than once that I walked in on the- uh, why am I telling you this? You're their _kid_."

Rachel started cursing on the other end, but Annalise giggled.

"Thanks, Rach. This was great help."

"It better be," Rachel mumbled before she hung up.

Annalise turned to Clara. "I think I just got an idea, and that dinner you mentioned would fit perfectly."

Clara raised her eyebrow at Diana. "Told you so."

"What's the idea?" Diana asked, ignoring Clara.

"I haven't decided the details yet," Annalise said, a grin growing on her face, "but I'm sure they won't be able to keep their hands off each other after it."

The three girls looked intrigued yet confused. After all, they didn't know what she'd just found out.

* * *

_I was supposed to have written and posted this yesterday, but I ended up drinking with my sister while watching Something Borrowed and, well... I'm not really sorry._

_I'm slowly making the chapters a little longer on **angelalexandra**'s request. _

_On another note, who's doing NaNoWriMo this year? I just entered my novel, I'm so excited!_


	10. Chapter 10

BLAINE ANDERSON: BLAINE'S OFFICE: WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON

* * *

The times when he would get a new case before he'd even finished his last one were the most stressful times he knew. It made him work extra hours, skip lunches, and make him lose sleep due to his anxious head. The same thing happened whenever a case was complicated, too.

Now there was a man filing a lawsuit against Taco Bell for having slippery bathroom tiles. Not only were the details of the case absurd, it was also complicated. Yes, it was possible to sue a company for being injured on their property. That didn't mean that Blaine wanted to deal with the case. Going up against big corporations with nothing but circumstantial evidence was a challenge to say the least.

Of course, he was a good lawyer. He was a great lawyer. He knew which direction the company was most likely to pull the trial in, so he knew what to look out for. They would argue an act of God. The big companies always did. Or they would say that Blaine's client slipped because of his shoes, or ask him what he had eaten during the day to insinuate that he had been dizzy from malnutrition, which had caused him to trip. It was impossible to know beforehand which exact direction the corporate representative would take the trial in, which was why there was so much research involved with a case like that: as an opposing lawyer, you had to be ready to discredit every single angle they might throw at you.

Though the fact remained that Taco Bell had had a broken faucet leaking water onto the floor. The fault was entirely theirs, there was no doubt. Someone would have to pay the man's medical bills. But big corporations provided anything but an open and shut case.

Blaine could already see it in front of him, standing in court while some Taco Bell representative brought up file after file claiming that there was nothing wrong with how the company was run, laid out, or built.

He sighed. He was going to tell his partner Wes that he wouldn't take the case. Wes could take it if he wanted to, but he didn't feel up to taking it himself at the moment.

He was tired of his job always being the same. The client was always unhappy, the opposition was always unwilling to settle, and Blaine would always work his ass of trying to find that one angle that would make him win the trial.

It wasn't that he didn't like his job. He did: he loved it. He loved winning trials, he loved the research and the feeling that he's done something good. He was just tried of his clientele, the same old cases.

He hadn't told Wes, but he had started looking at other fields. If Wes wasn't willing to expand the company, then fine. He would keep doing his boring, old cases without complaint. But if Wes agreed, then Guy &amp; Anderson's would have a top lawyer in a new field. He hadn't decided which yet, but he had been looking at criminal law and family law. He was tired of working with civil litigation.

His phone started ringing, which brought him back to reality. He was still in his office, still working on his cases of personal injury and products liability. That wouldn't change anytime soon.

It turned out that it was Annalise calling him.

"Hi Annie," he greeted her, already forgetting about his stress.

"Hi Daddy!" She sounded cheerful as always. "I'm not interrupting you, am I?"

"No, not at all. I was thinking about getting some lunch now, anyway."

"… It's almost four o'clock."

Blaine lifted his suit jacket sleeve to look at his watch. Sure enough, she was right.

"Oh, damn, look at that. No wonder I was getting hungry."

"You have to take care of yourself, Daddy," Annalise said, her voice already deprived of its cheer.

Blaine closed his eyes. He hated when he did that to her. Sure, it was always by accident, but he didn't like it when he made her worry about him. It was his job to worry about her, not the other way around. "I will, I promise. It was just a one-time thing." Lie. "It won't happen again." Another lie. "I'm fine." Debatable.

Who was he trying to fool?

He heard Annalise click her tongue against her teeth as she often did when she didn't know what to say.

"Did you want something, sweetie?"

"Oh, yeah! I was wondering if you could pick me up later on Friday, in town?"

"Oh, uh, sure?"

"It's just that Dad is having a bridal fitting and I really wanted to watch."

"That's fine," Blaine said. "Just let me know when and where."

"Will do! Love you."

"Love you, too. See you Friday."

The line clicked, but Blaine stayed still with his phone pressed against his ear for a while. He realized he felt disappointed. It wasn't fair of him, he knew, to feel that way. His daughter was growing up and he couldn't cling to every minute of her company forever. He'd just be away from her a few hours extra, tops. It was no big deal. It wasn't fair of him to put all his needs of socializing on her. He needed more comfort than she could give him.

Sighing, he brought the phone from his ear and pressed in a new number. He waited for the call to connect and the person on the other line to pick up.

"Hi, baby, miss me already?"

Blaine smiled at the greeting.

"Yeah. I was just thinking about the other night. I had a great time."

"Me too. At the restaurant at dinner, and afterwards at your place…" Justin chuckled. "Maybe I could come over sometime before the girl comes on Friday?"

Blaine winced at how he said _the girl_. It felt like he was cheating on somebody. It sounded like Annalise was nobody to Justin. It was probably true. They had never met, so why should he care about her? But Blaine couldn't deny that it bugged him, that he dreamed of a man that would love Annie as much as he did. Maybe it was too much to ask.

"You better," Blaine said instead of voicing his thoughts. "How about tonight?"

"That works. I'll stop by later. Can't wait."

As soon as he hung up, there was a series of knocks on his office door. He stood up behind his desk, bracing himself for whoever it may be: a client he had forgotten about; someone who had been trying to reach him; or news about a new, awful case. The possibilities were endless when he was on duty, and all were equally terrifying.

"Come in!" he called. The door opened, and his body slumped in relief when he saw who it was. "Wes. What's up?"

Wes held up his phone, which made Blaine frown in confusion.

"Your daughter Annalise just called."

"I know," Blaine said, thinking about their brief conversation. His eyes widened. "Wait, she called _you_? Why? How does she even have your number?"

"Beats me." Wes put his phone back in a pocket on the inside of his suit jacket. "But she told me to force you to eat something. I think she worries about you."

Blaine grinned. "She always does. And anyway, I'm on my way to get some lunch. I told her that."

Wes raised his eyebrows. "Lunch? You do know what time it is, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"Case keeping you busy?" Wes motioned with his head toward the door, a quick little twitch. "Walk with me."

Blaine shut his laptop and made sure he had his wallet and phone before going after Wes. Blaine always felt good when he stepped out of his office, even if only for a moment. It reminded him that he wasn't the only one working his ass off. The floor was brewing with life even though a few people had already gone home for the day. He took the elevator down with Wes, stepping into the small, crammed space with a few lucky fellows who got to call quits for the day, and a few unlucky ones who were unintentionally bringing work home in their minds, that stayed there and kept them awake until early hours of restless half-sleep.

"Case keeping you busy?" Wes repeated. "I had one two weeks ago, I know the signs."

"Yeah, that. And I looked at the Taco Bell versus Brewman case."

"Oh yeah? Does it seem doable?"

The elevator kept stopping at every other floor, some people getting out but most people stepping in. They all greeted Wes and him, knowing who they were. There was only one person who didn't, and Blaine figured the ginger guy was new. He couldn't help but notice he was kind of cute. Especially when he gave Blaine an unsure smile.

"Yeah, it does. I just don't think I can do it."

"Blaine, I know you don't like big corporate cases, but remember that they pay well before you turn it down."

"Like I need to take it for the money," Blaine reminded him.

Wes chuckled. "I guess you're right. I just let you have first pick in case you wanted it. You know, take Annalise for an extra vacation in the Bahamas or something. But if you're sure I'll just send it down."

"Do you think there's someone who can handle it? Corporate cases are not for everyone."

"I'll tell you what." Wes straightened his tie before they stepped out of the elevator on the entrance floor. "I'll hand it to you. If you can find someone you think capable of taking the case, give it to them. If not, call Brewman and tell him we reject."

"Sounds fair."

Blaine always liked walking through the lobby. Not because of the sleek design that screamed of his and Wes's success, but because of the block letters above the reception desk. There it was, in big golden letters, to remind him of how far he had come.

_Westley Guy &amp; Blaine Anderson: Attorneys at Law._

It made him feel proud of himself every time.

"So where do you wanna eat?" Wes asked.

Blaine chuckled. "You haven't eaten either?"

"Oh, I have," Wes said. "But Lilly has become vegan and I'm not digging dinners at home anymore. Her being a vegetarian I could handle, as long as I got my meat for lunch. But this is awful. No eggs, no _cheese_. Why would anyone want that for themselves?"

Blaine shrugged. "Beats me."

* * *

When Blaine got back to his office, stomach full and spirits heightened, he thought that his job wasn't so bad. He had made a lot of friends in his office, even though he probably made even more enemies out in the world. It was worth it.

He was sitting in his office, the time nearing six, when he looked at the folder for the Brewman case. He wouldn't take it. He didn't need the extra cash, nor the added stress just as his week with Annie was coming up. But the question was who he could assign it to.

Just as he thought about assigning it to Lopez or Evans, there was another knock on his door.

"Come in!" Blaine called, wondering what Wes wanted this time.

But it wasn't Wes. It was the supposed new guy he'd seen earlier in the elevator. His pale cheeks were red as if he was blushing, and he barely stepped into the room, holding on to the door like a lifeline.

"Excuse me for interrupting your work, Mr. Anderson, sir."

Blaine smiled. "It's alright."

"But I think I might be able to help you."

"Is that so?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The guy seemed to evaluate the situation and deemed it safe to step away from the door. He closed it, and came to sit on the chair in front of Blaine's desk.

"I'm sorry if I'm overstepping," he said, "but I overheard you and Mr. Guy talk in the elevator earlier about needing someone to assign a case to. I came to offer my services, sir."

Blaine watched the guy for a moment. He could not have been more than twenty five years old.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Emmett. Emmett Hayworth."

Blaine got up from his chair and looked out of the tall windows in his office. The sun shone low over the city, a yellow light reflecting off the tall buildings.

"Hayworth…" Blaine mumbled, dragging out the name. "What makes you think you're capable for this case? You're new, aren't you? Inexperienced?"

"I don't have as much experience as the rest, but I'm good. Really good. I've won practically all my cases since I graduated."

The sun started shining in his eyes, so he turned away from the window. Instead he leaned against it, tilted his head to the side and inspected the newcomer.

Hayworth rose from his chair, yet didn't move from his spot.

"If you were willing to give this newcomer an ounce of faith, I promise I won't disappoint. I know the stakes, and if you want you can fire me if I lose."

He seemed to be shocked by his own words, but he made no effort to take them back.

Blaine stepped away from the windows and grabbed the folder from his desk. He held it close to his chest.

"If you screw this up, you can consider yourself unemployed." Blaine held out the file to Hayworth. "Do you still want it?"

Emmett Hayworth, fresh and eager, reached for the folder.

"All Brewman's contact details are in there, just state our company name and tell him I sent you. I suggest you do your research, and lots of it, before even setting up a meeting with a Taco Bell representative."

Hayworth nodded enthusiastically. He looked so happy he could be breaking out into song at any moment.

Blaine almost smiled, then realized the gravity of the situation.

"Remember, you lose your job if you fail me. But you can come to me anytime if you have questions, okay?"

Hayworth nodded, his eyes admiring and trusting on Blaine's.

Blaine didn't know what possessed him to do what he did then.

Maybe it was Hayworth's pale skin, his barely noticeable freckles, his curiosity and trust, or his coiffed ginger hair that was so close to chestnut brown in the yellow sunlight. Maybe he had a moment of confusion, or one of insanity. No matter what, he could not take back what he did then.

Their lips pressed together for infinite seconds, soft and warm against each other. Blaine could swear that he felt Hayworth press his lips harder against his, but it only lasted fr a second before he quickly drew back.

Hayworth looked horrified, his eyes wide and alarmed.

"I- I should-" was all he said before he ran for the door. Though he still had his manners, so just before he escaped, he bowed his head and mumbled, "Thanks for the case."

Blaine hid his face in his hands when the door shut. He had no idea what had possessed him to kiss his new employee. He gave himself ten seconds to freak out, then composed himself and sat back down behind his desk. He opened his laptop and went back to work on the case he still had. He didn't let himself think about the kiss for a second. Thinking about reasons was too dangerous.

Even when Justin woke him up and he realized he was still in his office, he wouldn't think about it. He remembered it as he looked around, disoriented, but he pushed it away as soon as he remembered it.

"What time is it?" Blaine asked, rubbing at his eyes.

"Almost nine," Justin said, looking at Blaine with pitiful eyes. "I went to your apartment but you weren't there, so I figured this is where I'd find you."

"I'm sorry that happened." Blaine groaned. "Again."

"It's okay. I'm just worried about you. You're killing yourself with work."

"I'm not," Blaine said defensively. "It's just a lot right now. But I reassigned a case today, so that's good."

Justin moved behind him, and his hands found Blaine's shoulders. He began massaging kinks out of Blaine's tense shoulders. It felt great. The office was dark like the night outside, and Blaine closed his eyes peacefully and sighed.

"That feels good."

"You know what else feels good?" he asked. A second later his breath puffed against Blaine's ear, and his teeth nibbled on his earlobe.

"That does feel good," Blaine moaned. "Why don't we hurry back to my place, and-"

"Actually," Justin said, placing kisses down his neck. "I've had this… fantasy taking place in your office…"

In the darkness, in an empty office building, Blaine took all of his clothes off. In the dark, where he felt safe and isolated, like nothing could touch him or hurt him, he bent his boyfriend over his desk. And, for the first time in many years, he had sex thinking about nothing but Kurt.

* * *

_Oh my God, I got such a lawyer!Blaine crave while writing this. Can you imagine a fic where Blaine is a topshot, asshole lawyer and Kurt is a smalltime lawyer newbie and then Blaine becomes a sort of mentor to him and when he's not lecturing him about what he's doing wrong he's fucking him in his office *u*. Ok, oof, I need to stop._

_To **BritHummderson**'s question: I have been planning to bring it up in a future chapter, so just hang in there!_

__I hope you enjoyed!__


	11. Chapter 11

KURT HUMMEL: LOVELY BRIDE, 182 DUANE ST: FRIDAY AFTERNOON

* * *

Albeit stressful, work had actually been fun the whole day. He didn't know if it was because of the scheduled bridal fitting, if it was because he was starting to feel like he had actually gotten work done, or because Annalise had joined him and Rachel in the afternoon. He was pleasantly surprised when she had asked to join them, to see them in action. She had never really shown interest in his work before. He kind of liked it.

"Someone please make her come out here," one of Aisha Lyle's bridesmaids said seriously. "Right now. Otherwise I'm gonna end up dragging her out of that dressing room and while that would make for a really memorable scene I'm sure we'd be better off avoiding it."

"Rachel, go see what's taking so long," Kurt instructed, turning to Annalise as Rachel disappeared. "As you see, things rarely move smoothly." He smiled. "Having fun, sweetie?"

He asked it sarcastically, of course, since anything had yet to happen. Aisha had disappeared into the dressing room together with a store employee and three dresses, telling them all she'd be out in a moment to show the first one. That had been fifteen minutes ago.

Annalise sipped on her alcohol free sparkling cider where she sat on one of the crème white sofas. He sat down next to her as she grimaced but tried to hide it with a smile.

"No, it's great!" she said, and it sounded like she was being serious.

"Things will get more exciting when the bride shows up," Kurt promised anyway.

It took a minute for Rachel to reappear but when she finally did, it was without a bride.

"I swear, if she doesn't come out here…" the first bridesmaid muttered.

Rachel hurried up to him and Annalise.

"There's a situation…" she said uncertainly, glancing toward the dressing rooms.

"I sort of figured," Kurt said dryly. "Did you take care of it?"

"No, you know I'm not very good at consoling people."

"Consoling?" Kurt got up from the couch in a flash and headed to the dressing room that Rachel had just come from.

He knocked lightly on the door twice. "Aisha, it's Kurt. Are you dressed?" When he got no reply, he took it as a yes. "I'm coming in, okay?"

He pushed the door up slowly, just to make sure she just hadn't heard him and in fact wasn't dressed. That would just have been awkward for everyone involved. When the door was open enough for him to glide in, he saw Aisha standing in a wedding dress in front of a full length mirror, her face turned away. One of her hands was raised to her face, moving in soft motions.

"Are you alright?" Kurt asked gently, shutting the door behind him. The room was big and fit an armchair with a matching side table, two large mirrors, and a huge clothing rack where two dresses hung. He noticed the empty champagne glass on the side table, next to the almost empty tray of chocolate covered strawberries, but didn't comment on it.

"Oh, I'm fine," Aisha said, turning to Kurt. Her hand wiped away tears from her puffy face, and she smiled. "I'm embarrassed that you're seeing me like this."

"Don't be. Let me tell you that this nothing compared to some brides I've met."

"Is that true or do you just tell people that to make them feel better?"

"With the job I have? It is most definitely true." He took a seat in the vintage armchair and draped one leg over the other. "Brides-to-be have a tendency to get very emotional."

"I can imagine." She put her hands on her hips and looked at herself in the mirror. "I am actually not fine, by the way." She tilted her head to the side and inspected her figure. Then she glanced over at Kurt from the corner of her eye. "I'm fantastic."

"Oh yeah?" Kurt reached for a chocolate covered strawberry. He bit into it, juices filling his mouth together with that dark aroma.

"Are you married?" she stunned him by asking.

He smiled and raised his ring-less left hand. "Nope."

"Have you ever been?"

Kurt's smile faded at the same pace that he lowered his hand in. "Yeah, once."

"Was that person the love of your life?" Aisha quickly pressed her lips together. "Sorry, I probably shouldn't ask that since you're divorced. I'm sure that you'll find love again. Unless you already have."

"It's okay," Kurt assured, his voice raspy. "In many ways, he was the love of my life. He's my first and only love so far."

Aisha nodded. "Then I guess you know what it feels like to marry the love of your life."

"I do," Kurt said and smiled, fondly remembering the time of his life when he had been the happiest. "You woke up with a constant high, like you were popping Prozacs like breath mints."

Aisha laughed. "Oh, don't I know the feeling. Every day is bliss." She hesitated, running her hands over the bright fabric of the dress. "I just got overwhelmed, you know? Thomas is the man I've always loved but never wanted to love. We have been on a constant roller coaster of ups and downs, and I'm struggling to realize that us getting married isn't a distant dream. It feels very surreal, because I was convinced that we would spend our entire lives passing each other by."

"I can't imagine what that must have felt like," Kurt said, recalling what he knew about their relationship. In a way, it was a bit like him and Blaine's, only ten times more dramatic.

They had fallen in love back in the eighties when they'd been introduced at a party. They had had a brief affair until Thomas had moved to Los Angeles. He had gotten himself a wife and two kids by the time he and Aisha met again. He had left his wife for her, but in the end it hadn't lasted. He had moved back to California to be with his kids, and Aisha had devoted herself to her company. Their relationship had continued in the same pattern until something happened that the press never figured out the details of, and they had been together ever since. That was two years ago, and the longest they had ever been completely together.

"I'm sure that what the media portrayed was far from the truth," he added.

Aisha nodded. "They found out a lot, but most things stayed between us."

"Of course. You wouldn't want the world to know about your personal life."

"It wasn't just that," Aisha confessed. "I haven't even told my closest friends some things. I just felt it was better that way."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"Well… things were not always simple with us. In fact, they were never simple." Aisha stepped away from the mirror, wiping her face one last time to ensure the drying tears were all gone without a trace. "Shall we?"

"Let's," Kurt said, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Aisha wasn't telling him everything he might need to know as her wedding planner. He'd have to talk to her again sometime, under less stressful conditions.

"You look amazing, by the way," he told her before they stepped out of the dressing room.

When they came back into the store, Annalise perked up and Rachel released a breath of relief. Aisha's friends squealed with excitement when they saw her.

"Oh my God, you're a stunner!" one friend said.

"I still think you should go with a dress in ivory," another said.

"I think that one looks great, take that one," said the one who had spent the whole time there complaining about things taking time.

Kurt rolled his eyes when he heard her. If time was so scarce to her, why was she even there?

It only took a minute until Aisha was back in the dressing room, and Kurt went up to Rachel and Annalise.

"Wedding jitters?" Rachel asked, wondering why Aisha had been upset.

"I'm not sure," Kurt said. "We might have to keep an eye on her."

"What does that mean, Daddy?"

"Just that she told me some things that concerned me." He saw that Annalise still didn't understand what he meant. "As a wedding planner, I've encountered many brides-to-be. I have started to realize a pattern between brides who are just nervous, and brides who…"

"Who what, Dad?"

"Where there are more underlying feelings than just cold feet."

Rachel started to look worried, a deep crease forming between her eyebrows.

"Please tell me you're wrong, Kurt. We need this wedding badly."

"Look, it might be no big deal. I just think we should keep an eye out, maybe even talk to her about it. At least ask if there is someone besides Hayes she can talk to about what she's feeling."

"Sounds like a smart thing to do. Look, Kurt, if this doesn't pan out-" Rachel started shaking her head.

"I'm not saying it won't. All I'm saying is that there is a pattern – a line between okay and not okay, if you will – and that she's too close for comfort."

When Aisha came out again, now wearing a simple dress in ivory with shoulder straps that went on for miles both in the front and in the back, she was absolutely glowing. She was grinning as her friends told her how amazing she looked, how lucky Thomas was, and how happy they were for her.

She turned to Kurt, grinning even wider as if it were possible.

"I think I've found my dress."

* * *

"Thank you for today, Kurt," Aisha said as her friends got into the cab they had ordered. "I'll see you on Monday?"

"Of course." Kurt watched as she reached for the cab door.

"Actually," he said, and she paused expectantly. He reached into his pocket for his business card – he'd made a point the last few years to always carry a handful with him – and scribbled his personal cell number on the back. He handed it to her. "If you ever need someone to talk to, you know, just gloat about how happy you are, or someone to listen to wedding jitters… Just call, okay? Day and night."

She looked at Kurt, then down at the card, and back up again. "I'm sure this is not standard procedure at least." She pocketed the card. "But thank you."

"No problem. By the way… one of your bridesmaids-"

"Let me guess," she interrupted. "Rhonda, black hair? Bringing everyone under a dark cloud?"

When Kurt nodded, she hummed with a sweet smile. "You can never escape in-laws, can you?" She scoffed. "She's Thomas's sister. After the wedding, I'm going to stay far away. She's only a bridesmaid because Thomas feels guilty about a thing of the past."

"Okay then," Kurt said with a brief chuckle.

Aisha got into the cab just as Rachel and Annalise exited the bridal shop. They were chatting about something he couldn't hear, most likely Brody – the wedding guy – so he figured he wasn't missing out. They quieted as they came up to Kurt where he waited on the sidewalk.

"How about we hail a cab?" he asked. "Or maybe we have to call for one at this time of day?"

"I already made a call," Rachel said.

"Actually, Dad," Annalise chimed in, "I was wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee before I have to go to Daddy's for the week?"

Right. He had forgotten about that. With all the concern he'd had for Aisha and with how happy he had felt to have Annalise there at work with him, his mind had pushed away the fact that, despite it all, it was a Friday.

He pouted. "I hate Fridays. It's supposed to be the best day of the week, but no way. I wish you could stay with me forever."

"I know," Annalise said. "But you know Daddy feels the same way."

Kurt laid an arm over her shoulders and kissed her forehead. "He has his boyfriend, he should be fine."

Annalise fluttered with her eyelashes. "You know I'm irreplaceable, Daddy."

"That, I do know."

"I'll just grab the cab then," Rachel said, louder than necessary.

"You can join us, you know," Kurt said.

Rachel smiled, cast her eyes to Annalise, and then shook her head. "I better be going. I have a date with Brody tonight and I need to get ready."

"Oh yes, you have a 'date'," Kurt teased, with a clear emphasis on the word "date".

A cab drove up the street, and Rachel stepped closer to the curb.

"You can call it what it is, you know," he said.

The cab came to a stop next to Rachel, who opened the door to the backseat. Before she stepped in, she tilted her head to the side and opened her mouth. Kurt knew that look.

"I guess I could, but then I remember that I am the only one of us who has someone to have almost-dates with."

She smiled and slipped into the car, telling the address to the driver who soon drove off.

Kurt and Annalise waived after her and started walking in the opposite direction.

"That was such a burn," Annalise noted and laughed. "But she was pretty on point."

"Only _pretty_ on point?"

"I have dated, but I've never almost-dated," she said and hooked her arm with his.

"I am very relieved to hear you say that."

"You have to say that, you're my dad."

"Yes, I am."

When they crossed the street, he realized he had no idea where they were headed. He voiced this.

"Oh! I saw a coffee shop just a couple of blocks away on my phone. It looked like a cozy place, so I thought, 'why not?'"

"Alright, I trust your instincts."

"You better."

They kept chatting until Kurt let his eyes wander around the street they were walking when the realization hit him that he distantly recognized the place. He turned his gaze upward, looking for street signs to clue him in.

_Chambers St._

"Hey, I know where we are," Kurt said dumbly.

Annalise scoffed. "Yeah, Dad, we're in Tribeca. Did you only just realize that? Please tell me you didn't."

"Yes, I mean, no. Of course I know. I meant that I've been here before, on this particular street. I always came here to study back in college, and I went off at the stop on Chamber's street."

He pointed at the subway station down the street they were crossing.

"Your Dad and I always came here to study. Afterwards we used to go to the Whole Foods across the street. It was more my thing than your dad's, but he always went along with it."

Annalise kept smiling, not saying a word.

Then it hit Kurt why.

"You already knew that, didn't you?" He side-eyed her, watching her stone-faced figure.

"No, I had no idea there was a Whole Foods around here."

An evasive response that answered the question, yet not fully.

"I meant that your dad and I used to come here."

Annalise bit her bottom lip, tugging at it with her teeth. "Blaine might have mentioned that there was a cute coffee shop nearby, so I wanted to check it out."

_Blaine?_ he thought.

But then he saw it. The place looked exactly the same from the outside, and for a moment it was as if no time at all had passed. He felt as if it was Blaine clinging to his arm, that his laptop bag was also filled with essay questions and assignments, and that he was going to get his favorite juice apart from a large cup of coffee, and have another chat with Mikael about Sweden.

"Of course you're bringing me here," Kurt muttered as Annalise pulled him inside. He got a table while Annalise got them coffees.

He didn't recognize the person behind the register. He hadn't expected to see the same faces he had over ten years ago, but it still disappointed him.

"Thanks," he said when she handed him one of the cups. He smelled the steam rising, and it smelled the same as it always had.

They drank in silence for a few minutes. Annalise kept checking her phone every now and then.

"Why did you bring me here, Annalise?" he asked her seriously.

She looked up from her cup, appearing to be startled by the question. She composed herself, falling deep into thought.

"I'm going to ask you something else instead, and I want you to know that you don't have to answer me unless you feel comfortable. Okay?"

"Alright…" Uncertainty tainted her trembling voice.

"Am I here for the same reason that you sometimes call me and your dad by our first names?"

Her mouth fell open, but she quickly slammed it shut. It made her teeth clatter, and she winced.

"It's okay," she finally said. "You can ask. I'm just not sure what to tell you."

He didn't say anything while he waited for her to continue.

"It's not the same reason, I don't think. I really do consider you and Dad my dads. It's not that I don't, it really isn't. You two are my real parents, if you ask me."

Kurt nodded, but stayed silent.

"I just… sometimes I remember them. My biological parents. It's mostly just flashes, sometimes in dreams, or when I see something that reminds me of them. After all, I was over four years old when I… was given away. I'm glad you told me the truth about my past, I really am. I think if you hadn't, I would always wonder… why they gave me up."

She paused, and Kurt didn't doubt that she was thinking about what he and Blaine had told her about her biological parents. It hadn't been pretty. Her dad had barely been around long enough to see her before he bailed, and her mom had a rough life. Annalise had been living in a condition that no child should be allowed in, and she had been four years and two months old when social services had stepped in and let the court rule that her mom unfit to care for a child. It took a lot for a child to be taken away from its mother, but when drugs entered the picture it altered the situation severely.

Annalise had been a little over four when she had been taken to safety. Four was too young to remember just how bad her situation had been, but too old for it not to exist in her mind at all.

"The thing is," she went on, "that I would do anything in the world to not make them my parents. I'd do anything to make you and Blaine my biological dads, even though I know that's not possible. I wish it were. But as much as I wish it, I can't escape my past. In a way, calling you Kurt and calling him Blaine makes me remember how blessed I am to have you. That you two aren't my real parents, but that I was granted a new life where I could be whoever I wanted. That I didn't end up in an awful home with abusive parents. Or worse, that I would've stayed in that mess forever. I've been so lucky and I owe you two so much-"

Annalise's voice caught in her throat, and she closed her wet eyes.

"Come here, baby," Kurt said softly, sniffling. He held his arms out and Annalise moved around the table, falling into his side. When she wept and clung to him like a rock, he let silent tears fall for the sadness of his child.

"You don't owe us anything," he mumbled into her hair. "We love you more than the world itself, and we wouldn't let you go even if you wanted us to."

Her silent crying turned into a strangled sob that was laced with the sound of a giggle. He held her tighter to his side.

"We are the ones who got lucky. I have no idea what I would ever do without you, and I never want to find out."

When Annalise's crying faded and she leaned back, she wiped her tear-streaked face.

Kurt blinked his own tears away. "I think that's enough tears for one day."

But then he noticed the black streaks under her eyes, and he watched her suspiciously.

"Honey, are you wearing makeup?"

Annalise started laughing, loud and vibrant. "Of all the things!"

"Despite all, I'm still your Dad."

A sob escaped her throat, and she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.

"Hey, hey… shh, it's okay. Everything's okay now."

It took a while for her to finally settle, but soon enough they went back to their coffees. They were only tepid now, but it was still the most delicious coffee Kurt had ever known. He had to remember to buy a bag of beans home before they left.

Annalise's phone started ringing, spinning with vibrations on the table. They both stared down at it dumbly, and Kurt saw it was Blaine calling.

"Go on, get it."

He listened while Annalise said a bunch of yes's and okay's before hanging up.

"He's eager to get you, huh?"

Annalise smiled. "Actually, he's eager to pick me up."

"Pick you-"

Kurt's head snapped up as the bell over the café door chimed as it opened. A handsome, disheveled man entered the place, looking around as if he was searching for something or someone. His cheeks were flushed with pink as if he had been running, and he was carrying a suit jacket on one of his arms. There was also a tie hanging from his grip, having been removed from around his neck where the top buttons of his crisp, white shirt had been unbuttoned. The sleeves of said shirt had been rolled up to the elbows, and the shirt clung to his biceps like spandex.

When Blaine's eyes found Annalise, his features softened and his face settled into a smile. He started walking towards her, but then stopped dead in his tracks. He had noticed Kurt sitting next to her, and his smile faded as his eyes twitched back and forth nervously.

He walked up to the table slowly, his eyebrows furrowing. He seemed to be struggling with a greeting, or anything to say at all.

Kurt and Annalise watched him struggle, but when he finally found his voice it settled on one single syllable.

"Kurt."

* * *

_Once again, I'm sorry I didn't get this up sooner! I just really had trouble finding my muse for this chapter, especially the first part. Maybe I have a problem with writing new characters, and giving Aisha a voice was difficult because I have such a clear view in my head of how I want her to appear. It remains to be seen if I succeed with that._

_I hope you enjoyed, and I really hope I can finish this fic before November starts. I'd feel awful leaving you guys hanging for a whole month! Let's keep our fingers crossed. _

_Later xx_


	12. Chapter 12

BLAINE ANDERSON: KAFFE 1668, 275 GREENWICH ST: FRIDAY AFTERNOON

* * *

Oh. _Oh_. He had not been prepared for that. Not at all. Though he realized that he should have been, knowing Annalise.

He had been suspicious when Annalise had told him she wanted to be picked up at Kaffe 1668. She had said that she had been thinking about the place ever since he told her about it, and that the bridal fitting she had gone to with Kurt had happened to be close by.

Not even a minute had passed after entering the store when he had realized it was a set-up. She had been there like he had expected, yes, but she hadn't been alone. Kurt had been there too.

"Kurt," he breathed when he reached the table they were sitting at. Apparently he lacked the ability to think of anything more logical to say.

Annalise raised her eyebrows in amusement. Though Kurt also looked a little taken aback by seeing him there, he still composed himself with a grin.

"Hello to you, too, Blaine."

"Sorry, I just didn't know you'd be here," he said lamely. He stood for a moment, and both Annalise and Kurt watched him. When nobody said anything, he pulled out a chair and sat down.

Kurt patted Annalise's shoulder. "Likewise. It was all this girl's idea."

"I don't doubt it," Blaine mumbled.

Another silence fell over them, in which Kurt shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Blaine watched him pull off his dress-to-impress work attire flawlessly. He looked stunning as always in skinny pants and a steel blue button down shirt. But watching Kurt made him remember the night in his office two days ago, the memory of which he had been trying to suppress. It had been far from his proudest moment, and he was more than ashamed of himself. If that was possible. What was worse than ashamed? Mortified. He was mortified.

He shifted his gaze down, to where his hands were fidgeting on the table. There was no escaping that he still had some feelings he needed to deal with. There were feelings, he'd come to realize, that he'd kept in his heart all this time even though he had sincerely thought that he had gotten rid of them all. He wished that there was a handbook titled _Getting Over Kurt Hummel_, because after all this time he still didn't know how to do it properly. There was a lump forming in his throat, a heaviness to his heart, that out of nowhere made him want to cry. Realization was finally catching up to him that all these years of thinking he was fine had only been him fooling himself. He wasn't fine, how could he be? He didn't want to be sitting in the ruins of his glorious past, with his half-time daughter and his lost love staring him down. He wanted to be anywhere but there. He needed to be alone.

He almost jumped out of his skin when a soft hand touched his. His eyes snapped up and met Kurt's blue irises watching him sadly.

"Are you okay, Blaine?"

"Yeah, fine," he lied.

Kurt saw right through it, and he knew it. Maybe that was how well Kurt knew him. Then again, he had always been a poor liar.

"You suddenly looked like someone had kicked your puppy," Kurt said gently, trying out a comforting smile.

Kurt's pale hand was warm on top of his, his fingers soft and comforting as they gently squeezed Blaine's fingers. Blaine couldn't remember the last time he had felt Kurt's hand against his own, or the last time he had felt the smoothness of his skin. Despite everything he was feeling, he visualized Kurt doing his skin care routine every day like he always had, and he smiled. Some things never changed, and he was grateful for that. At the end of the day – even though the world was ever-changing – he could still count on Kurt to take care of his skin. He found comfort in that.

"I'm fine," Blaine said, with more conviction this time.

"Good." He withdrew his hand quickly. "Because otherwise I'd have to go all Sebastian Smythe on your ass."

"Who's Sebastian Smythe?" Annalise wondered curiously.

"Care to share?" Kurt asked him, raising an eyebrow. Annalise's eyes darted restlessly between the two of them.

"Uhh," Blaine said, scratching his neck. He wasn't entirely sure what Kurt was getting at. "He was a guy I went to high school with."

"To specify," Kurt told Annalise, "he was a guy with a thing for Blaine, and his methods of approach and comforting were far from orthodox."

Annalise gave them both an amused look before her eyes settled on Blaine.

"It's true."

"I'm not surprised," she said. "Everybody loves you, Daddy. How could they not?" She must have noticed Kurt blushing and busying himself with his coffee cup, because she quickly added, "I mean- just... you're hard not to like."

But Kurt still looked uneasy, and Blaine didn't like it at all. Despite what you should feel toward an ex, Blaine didn't like feeling like he was somehow above Kurt or better than him, and he certainly didn't like watching him squirm.

That was probably why he said what he did then.

"Oh, I sure remember a certain someone liking the hell out of me Christmas of 2010 when I dragged him out of studying to perform an impromptu rendition of _Baby, It's Cold Outside_ for my performance at Kings Island Christmas Spectacular."

Kurt shook his head to himself, but he was grinning.

"I would definitely want to hear that sometime," Annalise told them.

"I can't believe you would bring that up," Kurt said. "It was so embarrassing!"

"Why was it embarrassing?" Blaine asked, beating Annalise to it, who just shut her mouth without a word. "We were good. Actually, we did that song brilliantly together."

"Yeah, we were great," Kurt agreed, "but I was also head over heels for you and so blatantly obvious about it that everyone at school knew about it. Except you, of course, mister Oblivion."

"Really?" Annalise said, her word almost getting lost in her fit of giggles. "It sounds like Blaine."

"It's true. I was completely clueless. Afterwards, I would think back of things he did and things our friends at school and in our glee club The Warblers said and did that made it _so obvious_. I actually didn't find out until around Valentine's Day when Kurt told me about it. I had actually made Kurt and The Warblers help me serenade another guy. That's another story, but long story short, it became clear why my friends had been so against helping me perform for another guy. They had even told me that if I wanted to perform a Valentine's song at Dalton - just for glee club - they'd gladly help me."

Blaine felt himself smile when Kurt and Annalise didn't stop laughing at him.

"I used to be a very clueless kid, okay?"

That just made them laugh even harder. Kurt was laughing so hard that he had to wipe tears from his eyes.

Blaine threw his arms up after a minute.

"What? What's so funny?"

They were barely able to get any words out.

"You _used to be_-"

"Clueless _kid_-"

"Okay, okay," Blaine concluded. "So I might still be a little bit slow at getting hints."

That didn't do anything to stop their laughing.

"Might!" Kurt squeaked.

"A little bit!" Annalise wheezed.

"You're just too adorable!" Kurt said and laughed. But then he seemed to realize what he just had said. His laughter slowly faded with a prolonged sigh, and he wiped at his eye one more time.

"He _is_ adorable," Annalise agreed, grinning at him.

"Thank you both. You have sufficiently embarrassed me for one day."

"You are welcome," Annalise said seriously.

"Yes," Kurt agreed. "If we don't embarrass you, who will?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "I think I'd live."

"Admit it, Dad, you'd miss us to death if we weren't around."

Blaine smiled at his girl, about to reply. However, he moved his gaze to Kurt, who was looking down at his coffee cup with a strange sort of smile.

"Yes, I would," Blaine said truthfully.

"Exactly. So what is all the fuzz about?" Annalise batted her eyelashes at him, which was low even for her. He was the one who had taught her that move. "You love me even when I have mad sugar craves."

"Speaking of," Blaine said. "I was thinking you and I head home and bake cookies for dinner. Screw nutrition and just live for the day!"

Kurt's eyes met his briefly before they moved away, to Annalise.

"You're more than welcome to join us, Kurt, if you'd like."

Blaine had no idea why he said that. It had just slipped out. Okay, maybe it hadn't _slipped_ as much being spoken as soon as the thought had hit him, before he had even processed what saying it would mean. Being nice to everyone came naturally to him. He was often overly nice, like inviting his ex-husband over for cookie baking just because he happened to be there when they made the plans. He was too nice. That was the explanation he was sticking with.

"Um, actually-" Kurt began.

"Yes, Daddy, _pleeease_," Annalise begged. "Come with us."

"I would love to, but I'm afraid I still have work to do before my weekend can begin."

Kurt gave her an apologetic smile when she pouted, but when he turned to Blaine his smiled faded. Blaine knew why. He knew Kurt had a lot at work, but he also knew Kurt could have postponed it had he really wanted to.

"Some other time, then," Blaine said, watching Kurt.

Kurt stared back. His head was titled to the side, just barely. His eyes were slightly narrowed, also just barely. They were subtle motions that Blaine noticed. He knew Kurt was trying to read him, figure him out. Did he have an ulterior motive? Why was he inviting him along? Did he honestly want him along or was he just being polite?

He didn't even have an answer to those questions himself.

"Yeah," Kurt whispered finally. "Some other time."

* * *

_I burned my hand today while I baked cookies myself so typing hurts and it sucks :( Please review to let me know what you think of this chapter._

_Also, mini spoiler-ish: I can't wait for chapter 14! I've been dying to write it for like a week!_

_See ya soon xx_


	13. Chapter 13

ANNALISE ANDERSON HUMMEL: BLAINE'S APARTMENT: SATURDAY MORNING

* * *

The familiar Skype ringtone was heard in her bedroom in Blaine's apartment early the next morning. It was the Operation Blackbird call group she had created that was calling her. Luckily Blaine had been forced to go to some meeting with a client he was helping out with, so she was able to speak undisturbed.

As soon as she answered the call, her friends' faces appearing on the screen, they all asked questions in a hurried stream. Well, Diana and Clara did. Reilly sat watching them in silence.

"How did it go yesterday?"

"What did your dads say?"

"Did your plan work out?"

"At first, they were kinda shocked," Annalise began by saying. "But once they had warmed up to the idea, it went sort of great. We had tons of fun and they even talked about the old days when they were in love without me having to bring it up."

"Oh my God, that's great!"

"I'm so happy for you!"

"Why don't you seem happy, then?" Reilly asked.

Annalise put foam pads between her toes, prepping for her indulgent self-pedicure.

"I don't know. It was great, but… it hasn't solved anything, has it?"

"You have to give it time," Diana said, taking a sip of her glass filled with green juice to the brim. "I'm sure they need time to adjust to this whole thing."

"It's not just that," Annalise said, turning to her nightstand where she'd put three different colors or nail polish. She grabbed them and held them up in front of her webcam. "Should I go for Pink-a-boo, Pinking about you, or Miss fancy pants?"

"They all look the same to me," Clara said with a shrug.

"Pinking about you, _duh_," Diana offered.

"The one that's least pink," Reilly said.

Annalise looked at the matt grayish purple nail polish in her hands before putting away the other two. "Miss fancy pants it is."

"What else is it, then?" Clara asked. "If you said it went great?"

"Dad – well, Blaine – asked Kurt to come back to his place to bake cookies with us, but he declined. He said he didn't have time but we all knew it was a lie. He still won't let himself give in to his feelings, and that's the problem. I don't think time will solve anything because it clearly hasn't so far."

"Maybe he just needs a push," Diana said.

"Set them up on a dinner date, set them up on a dinner date," Clara chanted on her end.

"I think he needs a big push," Annalise agreed. "The thing is just that I don't know how big of a push he'll need to get over his threshold."

"_Dinner date_," Clara chanted again.

"Yes, Clara, we know," Diana muttered. "Do you think you could pull it off, Annie?"

"I guess. But it would need a lot of precise execution in order for it to work." She unscrewed the small bottle clamped in her hand and began painting her toenails in the pretty color. "And help from you guys, of course."

"Anything," Clara said. "What do you need?"

"I need to sleep at one of you guys' places next Friday night. It's important I'm not around if my dads will ever get close again. They need private time, and I can't be around for that. No matter how eager I am to watch them fall prey to their feelings for each other."

"Okay." Clara leaned closer to her camera with a smile, looking content. "What else?"

"I need help with picking a fight with Dad."

She was met by silence.

"I'm sorry, did I just hear you?" Diana asked.

Annalise nodded reverently. "I've been thinking about this all night, and I think it's the only way. You see…"

So she told them everything she had come up with during her sleepless night, and everything she was thinking about putting into motion for her plan to be a success. It would begin in the week, on Tuesday or Wednesday, with her and Blaine fighting. It would have to be a big enough argument for them to not make up during the week, but insignificant enough to be able to get past without having a face-to-face conversation. She would be the one bringing up the argument and be the one in the wrong, so that she would have to be the one to apologize. She would do so by giving him a fresh pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt and a cooked dinner. Of course, being eager to put the fight past him, Blaine would immediately try the clothes on. Cue Kurt coming over to pick up Annalise for his week with her. Blaine would invite him over for dinner because that was just how nice he was, and Kurt wouldn't decline because he would feel that he had turned Blaine down enough times already. Annalise didn't want to count on that though, hence the gift to Blaine that would make him irresistible to Kurt. Thank you for that piece of information, Rachel!

"Of course, I still need to come up what the fight should be about, and there are a lot of things in the plan that easily could go wrong. What if Blaine doesn't try the clothes on right when he comes home? What if he works late? What if Kurt calls him and finds out that I'm staying at one of your places? What if Kurt declines dinner anyway…" Annalise sighed, her mind going over everything that could go wrong for the millionth time.

"Annalise," Diana said, her eyes wide. "It's brilliant."

Annalise finished painting the nails on her first foot, and set the polish aside while she let it dry. Pulling a hand through her hair, she frowned.

"You think?"

"Oh yeah," Clara assured. "We think."

* * *

When she had finished planning for Friday's dinner date – which Clara had been radiantly happy about – she said goodbye to her friends and decided to go for a walk and get breakfast at her usual 7 Eleven by Kurt's apartment. Well, saying it was by Kurt's apartment was a bit misleading, since Kurt and Blaine's apartments were not at all that far away from each other. Kurt's apartment was located between First and Second Avenue, on 63rd Street, and Blaine lived on Third Avenue in between 70th and 71th Streets.

It was very ironic, was it not? They had gotten a divorce because they hadn't felt like they could handle a long distance relationship, and now they were living within ten blocks from each other. Although Kurt had been talking about moving to a bigger apartment in The Village – waiting until he could afford it, was what he always said – it had yet to happen.

That was why Annalise felt like going to see if Aayan was working, because it wasn't really any distance at all. Besides, Blaine didn't have anything edible in the apartment beside last night's cookies that had gone stale from sitting out all night, and she was getting increasingly hungry.

The walk was brisk with spring air, and the streets were busy as always. It seemed that no one had realized it was weekend already and got out on the streets in the morning like they always did when heading to work. She passed uncountable men with briefcases, women hoarding taxis, and couples dragging their kids along even though they were half-asleep (the parents, not the kids: those little creatures looked like they'd been up since dawn).

Annalise pulled her coat tighter around herself at a sudden gust of wind. It may have been April already but New York had yet to act like it. It didn't help that she got stuck at practically every traffic light on her way. It made her seriously reconsider her choices about walking, and the gnawing in her stomach was starting to make her nauseous.

Her strike of bad luck continued when she entered the comforting warmth of her usual 7 Eleven. She realized too quickly that Aayan wasn't working, and that in fact it was the rude college boy she resented.

Standing in the entrance, she debated turning around and heading to the other shop a couple of blocks away. If she hadn't been so hungry, she would have done it. The guy hadn't even looked up from his book long enough to notice her.

She headed straight for the drinks, indulging with a lemonade because unlike all those other New Yorkers she remembered that it was Saturday. But when she came up to the refrigerated section, she stopped cold. She felt her face pale when she realized they were all out of Yoplait. This would not do. She had come too far to be brought down by crap like this.

She went right up to the counter, making the college boy look up dully at her riled-up form.

"You're out of Yoplait," she stated, realizing that her voice was shaking. It had to be her low blood sugar acting up. She always went crazy when she didn't get her food.

The guy glanced up from the book briefly. His eyes watched her from behind those dark, thick-rimmed glasses.

"I know."

He went back to his book, apparently deeming her unworthy of his troubles.

She tapped her foot impatiently. "I'm hungry and I need my yogurt or else my whole day will collapse."

"We're out." He licked his finger to moisten it, and rubbed it on the corner of a page in the book before he turned it.

She slammed the lemonade onto the counter, which barely even made his breath stutter.

"Are all college boys this annoying?" she asked, still tapping her foot.

He finally looked up properly, and his bushy eyebrows rose in curiosity or maybe amusement. He lowered his book and licked his lips before asking, "What makes you think I'm in college?"

Annalise groaned. "Why else would you read so much?"

"Because it's fun?" He shut the book, and it made Annalise wonder how on Earth he would find the page again. "Because I'm prepping for college?"

"Fine, how old are you then?"

"I'm a junior. I want to go to Columbia, which is why I'm doing everything I can in my spare time to make myself look good on paper."

"Oh yeah, like working in Seven Eleven?"

She could see him tense his jaw, the slight bulge of muscle popping out of his skin.

"And here I was gonna give you the yogurt I saved for lunch," he muttered, reaching for the lemonade on the counter.

Annalise gaped, not knowing what to say. Was it too late to apologize? To get on her knees and beg a little? It didn't seem beneath her at that moment.

"Will that be all?" he asked in a bored voice, as if their conversation had never happened. Granted, it was a short conversation, although it had been the longest one they'd ever had.

"No, I want my Yoplait."

"You mean _my_ Yoplait," he corrected.

She scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. "Don't you have more in storage or something?"

"Nope, sold the last one a while back. We're expecting delivery tomorrow; feel free to come back then. Otherwise I could direct you to my boss to let him clarify."

"Oh, I'm sure Aayan wouldn't want to be disturbed on his day off, do you not agree?" She bit back a grin when she saw that she had caught him off guard. Really though, was he so deep into his fantasy world that he didn't know she came here all the time?

"Maybe if you gave me your Yoplait, I wouldn't have to call him and complain about you."

He shook his head. "Why is that such a big deal to you?"

"I get testy if I don't get any breakfast."

"No shit," he mumbled.

"There you go with being annoying again. Maybe I will call Aayan after all."

He watched her, no doubt trying to deduct if she was serious or not. He must have realized she was, because he reached under the counter and provided what she had been yearning for all along.

"You didn't keep it refrigerated?" she asked, grimacing.

"Do you want it or not?"

She bit her lip. "Fine."

He scanned it and gave her the total. When she had swiped her card and was ready to go, she stopped.

"You wouldn't happen to keep an extra spoon under there, would you?"

He didn't even sigh as he reached under the counter again and handed her a plastic spork.

"Thank you," she said in exaggerated gratitude, pretending that he was any other nice employee. But when she was about to head out, she couldn't. She stopped just before the door, damning herself for always needing to interfere.

"It doesn't hurt to be nice one in a while, you know."

He narrowed his eyes at her but said nothing.

"I just thought I'd share."

She gripped the door handle and pushed, but his voice stopped her.

"Like what?"

She turned back, letting the door shut. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "Be nice how?"

"I don't know. Like, be polite, make conversation, just that kind of thing."

"Okay, what about this: you have two dads, right?"

That certainly came out of nowhere. She had no idea how he knew that, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to know. But that didn't stop her from asking anyway.

"Well, you've come in here with two older dudes. Either you have several sugar daddies, or you have two dads. I went for the less offensive option." He smiled a brilliant smile, exposing all his teeth. "See, I can be nice."

Walking up to the counter, she extended her hand to him.

"I'm Annalise."

He looked at her as if she were insane, but still shook it.

"David."

"Nice to meet you, David. What about my parents?"

"Just making small talk," he teased.

She got ready to leave, fed up with how annoying all boys seemed to be no matter the age. At least her dads were saner than most boys. Maybe it was an adult thing. Or a dad thing. Or a gay thing. She had no clue.

"I've seen him, you know."

His voice made her stop, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Seen him?"

"The bushy-haired, short one, always in a suit? Yep. Saw him a few days back at my other job."

"You have two jobs and you're still in high school," she deadpanned. "Never mind, where did you see him?"

"A restaurant further down on Third called Annisa. I work there as a bartender occasionally."

"Don't you have to be twenty one to do that?"

He smiled, bringing a finger to his lips. "Shhh. They don't know. It's eighteen, actually. I'm close enough."

"That sounds like a great argument! Like, 'no officer, I'm not underage. Maybe by a few years, but I feel like I'm close enough.'"

"Hmm, I will wait with talking to any policemen until my eighteenth birthday."

"Good idea. Wait, why would my dad go out alone?"

"Oh, he wasn't alone. He was with some guy." A flush crept up on his cheeks. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be saying that. It's not my business to pry in your parents' relationship."

"Don't worry, you're not being rude again: they're divorced."

"Ah. Maybe I shouldn't have stared so much, then." His fingers played with the pages of his book. "Do you like your dad's new boyfriend?"

The word alone gave her chills. "I've never met him. Apparently my dad doesn't think it's serious enough for me to know he even has a boyfriend. Oh don't worry-" she added when he looked alarmed, "I already knew about it. He's not exactly subtle. I just wish he'd forget about that guy and focus on his feelings for my dad."

"You think he still has feelings for him?"

"I know this is going to sound silly and immature," she said, "but I know my dads are still in love. Blaine having a boyfriend doesn't deny that fact."

"If anything, it proves it," David mused.

"What do you mean?"

"I guess I shouldn't be talking about your dad behind his back, but he looked anything but happy on his date. Distracted, if anything. Must've been the call he got. He looked happy during, but pretty glum afterwards."

Annalise frowned, then a thought hit her. "It wasn't last Monday, was it?"

He nodded. "I think it was."

That made her squeal with joy, hopping up and down in her spot. "He was on the phone with my dad, I overheard the call."

"Wow," he said, sounding impressed. "That's cool. Good for you."

"It is, I'm setting them up." She hesitated, searching his face for any clues about how interested he actually was in all of this. When she saw that his face as more open and honest than she'd ever seen it, she took it as a good sign. "You could help me, if you want."

"I could?"

"Yeah. I have all my friends on it."

He looked unsure, shifting his eyes between the book by his hand and her face.

"Okay," he said finally. "Could be fun."

* * *

_Just an fyi: I'm not going to focus on chapter length because my first concern is finishing this story before November. I'm not sure I can do it, but I will try. Starting to get a bit of a writer's block, though. I'm not used to writing so much!_

_I hope you enjoyed, stay tuned for my favorite chapter! :3_


	14. Chapter 14

BLAINE ANDERSON: BLAINE'S APARTMENT: FRIDAY EVENING

* * *

He had had an awful week. There was no other way of saying it.

Monday had already brought on troubles at work, both with his own case and the case he was helping Mr. Hayworth with. Yes, he'd been surprised on Saturday when he'd received a phone call from him. He hadn't thought he'd hear from him at all, given how the end of their last encounter had gone. He had been wrong, and on Monday it turned out that the case had gotten several complications over the weekend under Hayworth's care.

Blaine had been the one who had to go and talk to Wes. He'd explained the complications and Wes scolded him for giving the case to a newbie. There was no other way of describing it. He couldn't have kept it from Wes, not when the Brewman client had gone to the press claiming that Guy &amp; Anderson's had discriminated him. It was most likely because of Blaine sending a newbie to him. The company was hit, and damage control had to be made. So he'd needed to talk to Wes.

The thing had left him in a bad mood, and it didn't help when Annalise started arguing with him. It was the stupidest thing, really. He knew, deep down, that spoiling her would only ruin her in the end. It shouldn't have come as a surprise when she had come to him for money because she had maxed out her credit card. The card with a $2000 limit. He had trusted her, but how much could you trust a twelve year old?

He had thought it had been a good idea in case of emergency to give her that much responsibility. While spoiling her, it would assure that she wasn't careless with money. The statements went to him, and he made a monthly check so that she didn't spend more than their decided amount. She had refused to return the brand clothes she thought she needed, and he hadn't given her more money. They hadn't spoken since. Many times had he tried to go to her to apologize, tell her that they were being silly wasting their week together by not speaking. But every single time he realized that he didn't have anything to apologize for. He also told himself that if Annalise hadn't apologized by the time he'd come home on Friday, he would talk to her. He didn't want her to leave him on bad terms. What if she would speak badly of him to Kurt, or complain about him? He didn't want that.

On Thursday he had had to fire Hayworth, and it hadn't been easy. Hayworth demanded that the turn of the case hadn't been his fault, that he couldn't have foreseen it happening. Sure, it no way reflected his work, but the company needed to distance itself from everything about the case. There was a chain of events that had to happen: Hayworth would be fired, Wes would go public with an announcement that they had done nothing but treat their client well, and then he and Blaine would work together against Brewman. His lawsuit against them was weak at best. How could a person be such an idiot anyway? Anyone who thought he could win a lawsuit against a law firm full of excellent lawyers could not have been in their right mind.

Also on Thursday, late at night, he broke up with Justin. Yes, it was tacky of him to break up over the phone and all, but he figured it would be alright given the nature of their relationship. They'd known each other a few months but most of their relationship had been consisting of phone calls, phone sex, and actual sex. There had been little actual dating, a very little feelings involved. At least, so he had thought. It turned out that Justin didn't take the break up quite so well. Justin had been calling him every other hour since then with some new reason why Blaine couldn't possibly have been serious.

So on Friday, when he finally got home exhausted and beat, he was surprised and disheartened at finding the apartment empty. It was nearing six o'clock, but Annalise wouldn't have gone to Kurt's without him, would she?

The apartment smelled like food he realized when he removed his shoes and coat. When he entered the kitchen, he saw a small, black box lying on the counter. Frowning, he went up to it and put aside his briefcase. There was a small, folded note on top of the box. He read it immediately.

_Daddy,_

_I'm so sorry about our fight. I was wrong. I returned all the clothes like you told me to. I do want you to trust me, I was wrong to do what I did and I feel terrible. I bought you something to make up for it. I also made you dinner, because you've looked like you could need to relax for a bit. _

_I won't be home when you get here, I'll be sleeping over at Clara's and heading to Kurt's in the morning. I've already talked to him about it and he said it was okay. I'll call you tomorrow when I get there so we can talk._

_Love you,_

_your Annie._

_P.s. I used my own money, not your credit card._

Smiling, Blaine felt a heavy weight lift off his shoulders. He was still exhausted, but he felt a little better. He put the note aside, and opened the box and peered inside. He took out the things wrapped in paper, and smiled when he saw the set of neatly folded sweatpants with matching t-shirt.

Annalise knew him too well. He didn't wait with shrugging out of his constricting suit and putting on the comfy-looking clothes. He'd been right, the clothes felt absolutely amazingly soft against his skin. He noticed that the price tags had been cut off already, but he didn't mind. It was a good fit. He tied the silky straps of the gray sweats and headed into the dining room.

The first thing he noticed was the wine bottle on the table. It was the bottle he'd had for as long as he could remember. He had been saving it for a special occasion.

Shaking his head to himself, he grabbed the bottle and headed into the kitchen. But he stopped, and looked at the bottle. The etiquette was starting to peel at the edges, and the whole bottle had traces of dust on it. Suddenly it didn't seem important anymore, to save it for a special day. When would that day come, anyway? It hadn't for as long as he'd kept it.

He returned into the dining room, bottle still in hand. He might regret it later, but right now he could use a drink.

Removing the lid to the casserole on the table, he smelled the wonderful ratatouille Annie had made for him. It was still hot, and plenty to go around. He wouldn't have to cook for days with all this food at hand.

A sound rang through his apartment then. He stared up, realizing it was the doorbell. Who could it be? Had Annie decided to see him anyway?

He put the lid back on, trudging out to the hallway. When he peered through the peephole, he became confused. He unlocked the door and stared dumbly at Kurt.

"Hi?"

Kurt smiled breathlessly. "Hey, where's my girl?" He walked past Blaine into the apartment.

"She didn't tell you?" Blaine asked, closing the door.

"Tell me what?" Kurt countered, immediately suspicious.

"She's staying over at Clara's tonight."

"What?"

"She said she talked to you about it," Blaine said with a shrug.

"No... She didn't." Kurt shook his head, gazing around the apartment as if Blaine was stashing her somewhere. "I don't- she called me like ten minutes ago to tell me I could pick her up at your place."

"Are you sure? That's weird."

"Of course I'm sure," Kurt snapped.

"Sorry, I didn't..." Blaine sighed, running a hand over his throbbing head.

"Are you okay?"

Blaine looked up, not sure what to say. Though he knew that Kurt wouldn't want to stand in his hallway and listen to all his problems.

"Just fine."

"Okay, well." Kurt walked toward the door. "I'll call her when I get home just to be sure. Thanks for... letting me know."

"Actually," Blaine said, making Kurt stop. "Annie made me a whole bunch of food... It's still hot. If you want to."

"Stay for dinner?" Kurt asked, his eyes going wide. He watched as Blaine nodded, searching his face. For a second, his eyes traveled down his body before darting straight back up. "Um, sure. Yeah."

Blaine went into the kitchen to grab another plate while Kurt removed his outdoor clothes.

"Would you like some wine?" Blaine called toward the hallway, grabbing an extra glass.

Kurt appeared in the kitchen, dressed in shades of blue. Blaine smiled when he noticed the scarf Kurt was wearing. It was navy blue with abstract white patterns on it and it was full of memories. Blaine had always wondered if Kurt had kept it or not after the divorce, and it turned out he had. It made him glad, because it had been a really expensive birthday present from him. He remembered how Kurt always wore it, especially when trying to hide hickeys from Burt.

He blushed when Kurt caught him staring at him.

"Sure," Kurt said slowly.

Blaine took the glass into the dining room and Kurt followed closely behind. He tried not to think about how much it felt like they were on a date, because they weren't. They were just two adults having dinner that their daughter made for them, in a dark room where the table was decorated with tall candles waiting to be lit.

Kurt sat down where Blaine had put a plate out for him while Blaine fiddled with the corkscrew and the wine bottle. When he finally succeeded, Kurt held his glass out and watched as rich red liquid flowed into the glass.

"Thank you," Kurt said, putting the glass down without having a taste.

Blaine hummed, pouring some for himself before sitting down at the short end of the table.

"Shouldn't you light those?" Kurt asked, his eyes fixed on the unlit candles.

"Um, yeah." Blaine found the box of matches thoughtfully left out on the table and struck fire to one just as Kurt's eyes started traveling around the room.

When he'd lit all the candles he sat back down. Kurt watched him the whole time.

"Would you like to begin?" Blaine asked, removing the lid from the pot.

"Smells good, what is it?"

"Ratatouille. I have no idea who she learnt how to cook it from. It was definitely not from me."

The dinner was... strange for the lack of a better word. They didn't speak much, only exchanged comments here and there. Blaine kept trying to come up with things to say, but he didn't succeed. He couldn't think of one thing they had in common.

"It's funny," Kurt said after a moment of silence. He was looking at his wine glass, twirling the dark liquid around and around in the oval glass. "I can't remember the last time you and I saw each other when no one else was around."

"I do," Blaine said quietly, remembering the night in the stairwell when everything had gone so wrong.

"Was that really the last time? It seems like so long ago."

Blaine looked up from his plate and saw Kurt watching him.

"It _was_ a long time ago."

Kurt nodded solemnly, putting down his glass. "I'm sorry, Blaine."

"Kurt, you don't have to-"

"I know." Kurt took the napkin from his lap and placed it on the table. "I'm not sorry about what I said that night. I meant all of it. I'm just sorry it had to end that way." He placed a hand upon Blaine's, locking their gazes. "What we had... it meant the world to me, and I'm sorry it had to end that way."

Blaine nodded, because he understood. But he disagreed. A smile grew on his lips.

"Annie has made me watch Supernatural, even though I think she is far too young to watch that show." He tried to remember the episode they had watched this week, when they hadn't been speaking. "'_No doubt, endings are hard. But nothing ever really ends, does it?_'" He watched Kurt's face, making sure he understood. "What I mean is... No matter what happened all that time ago, it wasn't the end. We didn't split ways, and we have Annie to thank for that. It was the end of our relationship, but it's not the end: we're here now. And we're not fighting anymore, so that counts for something right?"

Kurt nodded, finally smiling too. "I think we have Annie to thank for a lot of things. Annalise, I mean."

Blaine raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment on it. He'd never heard Kurt call their daughter anything but Annalise, especially not the nickname he always used.

"What brought this dinner on, anyway?" Kurt asked, changing the topic.

"I had a fight with Annie this week. I guess it was her way of saying sorry."

"Oh." Kurt sipped his wine. "Was it bad?"

"Pretty bad. But it's okay now, I think." He poked his fork through the last piece of food on his plate. He didn't think he could eat another bite.

"Are _you_ okay?" Kurt asked, his face masked with concern.

"Yeah, I am. It's just been a crappy week, that's all."

"Oh yeah?"

"Work was a bother," Blaine said and shrugged. "A stupid client that never should have been our client in the first place had I not screwed up."

"I heard about that on the news. The guy seems like a whack job if you ask me." Kurt smiled crookedly, a small dimple appearing on one of his cheeks.

"He is totally whack. Who else would sue a law firm?" Blaine scoffed. "I bet that when we have the first meeting he's just gonna stand up and plead the fifth without even knowing what it means and completely disregarding that we're not in court and that he hasn't even been called a witness. I'm not worried about him: he's seen too many TV shows to win anything. It's just unnecessary stress."

Blaine silenced. He took a sip from his wine and kept it in his mouth for a moment before he swallowed.

"And there was another thing too," he said dismissively, putting his glass down.

"What other thing?"

"I broke up with the guy I was seeing." He shrugged.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said sincerely.

"It's okay. It felt like the right thing to do. If only he'd leave me alone now."

Kurt chuckled. "Sorry, I shouldn't be laughing. I'm being so rude. So why did you do it?"

Blaine watched Kurt, but saw nothing but honest curiosity.

"You know, it's how relationships always end up sooner or later. It ends because I find out they're not as interesting as I initially thought they were, or I just can't be with them anymore when I realize that they're not-" _You. They're not you._

Blaine shot up from his seat, his napkin falling to the floor together with his stomach. Both dropped equally fast, and he felt as if he was going to throw up.

"Excuse me, I have to… I need to…"

He turned on his heel, escaping into the darkness of his living room. He leaned his forehead against the tall windows, exhaling slowly. He always felt safe there, like the world was at his reach yet the glass separating him from it made it unable to touch him.

But he heard the footsteps following him into the room, and his breathing wouldn't steady.

"You shouldn't lean against the glass," Kurt said softly. "It stains and you'll have to wash them all the time. You have an amazing view, by the way. I've never really realized. I'm practically on ground floor, so…"

He sighed and brought a hand up to Blaine's back and caressed it in circular motions.

"What's wrong?"

Blaine closed his eyes, feeling the cold of the glass against his skin. It comforted him; it grounded him.

"Everything is a mess, it's just too much-" He started shaking his head, leaning away from the window. Kurt's hand dropped from his back. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be dumping all my problems on you. I've made you listen to enough already."

"Hey, don't do that," Kurt protested when Blaine tried to escape. He grabbed hold of his arm, stilling him and making him face him. "You're not a burden, okay? Don't act like your feelings don't matter, because they do."

Before Blaine realized what was happening, Kurt had him pulled into a hug. His arms were tight around him, and it felt so good.

"I just miss it," Blaine mumbled against Kurt's shoulder. "How easy it was back when we were together."

Kurt pulled back just enough to give him a glare.

"Are you kidding me? We were in such deep financial trouble that we considered moving in with my dad in Ohio because we were so desperate."

"I didn't mean that," Blaine said quickly. "I meant emotionally. I always feel like an emotional wreck these days."

He hadn't heard it until then, but he swore that the stereo had somehow turned itself on and started playing a song that slowly grew louder and louder.

Blaine pulled away from Kurt, his eyebrows pulled together. He came up to the stereo and got perplexed when he looked behind it. Why had it been set on a timer?

But then he really heard it. Because the song was growing louder, and he knew that song all too well. It must have started out really softly, because it was already on the second verse. Blaine stared at the stereo dumbly, and when he turned he saw that Kurt was staring at the stereo as if it had grown three heads and started singing _Jingle Bells_ in German.

_Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste. It all revolves around you._

Oh. Oh no.

_And there's no mountain too high, no river too wide. _

Blaine moved to the front of the stereo quickly, his hands starting to shake. Where was the freaking pause button anyway? Pause, stop, off, _anything_?

_Sing out this song and I'll be there by your si-_

Blaine froze when the music finally stopped. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and the room was suddenly too still. He shut his eyes hard. He didn't want to see, he didn't want to hear, and he didn't want to feel.

But he heard Kurt's footsteps once more, walking closer to him, and he felt the hand placed on his tense upper arm, the fingers of which slowly trailed upward to disappear under the hem of his shirt sleeve.

He opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder. Kurt's face was only an inch from his, his mouth hanging open and his eyes almost closed.

When Kurt's lips pressed delicately to his, he forgot how to breathe.

He turned around in Kurt's arms, his hands gripping his shoulders for dear life. Their lips moved gently in a kiss that was so much like all of those he vaguely remembered from a decade ago, yet so new and different.

He pulled back after a moment, and he saw that Kurt looked just as wrecked as he felt. He tangled his hand in Kurt's messed-up hair and brought their lips together fiercely. Kurt pressed his body against him, every inch of them touching. Blaine moaned and started to feel heat pooling in his stomach.

Kurt pressed against him so desperately that he bumped Blaine into the stereo. He must have hit the play button with his butt or something because the music resumed.

However, the two couldn't have cared less about it at that moment.

Blaine pushed Kurt toward the couch, crawling on top of him. Kurt immediately started tugging at the hem of his shirt, and he raised his arms to let Kurt pull it over his head.

Cold air hit his skin, but it was quickly replaced by warm hands and an even warmed mouth sucking on his nipple.

"Oh _God_, Kurt." Blaine threw his head back and thrust his hips against Kurt's. "What are we doing?"

Kurt pulled his head back and let a hand trace over Blaine's round butt covered in soft, gray fabric. He squeezed the flesh in his hand, pushing Blaine's hips against his own experimentally.

He groaned loudly, closing his eyes. "I don't know, but please don't stop."

Blaine placed both his hands on Kurt's cheeks, placing a slow, delicate kiss to his lips. He pulled away just barely, so that his lips tickled Kurt's when he spoke.

"Do you want to go to the bedroom?"

After Kurt nodded, they untangled themselves from each other and walked into the adjacent room hand in hand. Blaine shut the door behind them before he was all over Kurt again.

He thought that he wouldn't take his hands off of Kurt again for the rest of the night. And he didn't.

After their first time, they lay on their backs next to each other. Nothing of their bodies touched except for their arms. They stared up at the ceiling, their minds no doubt having a hard time encompassing everything that had happened and all that it meant. They probably labeled it a mistake in their heads: something that would be suppressed and forgotten in due time.

After the second time, when they lay cuddled up against each other with Blaine's head against Kurt's chest, they thought that what they were experiencing was just a reminiscent of the past. It was just a second try at something that had been amazing the first time. If nothing else, then they had owed it to each other to find out if the second time could be just as incredible as the first.

After the third time, when they had ended up on a blanket on the floor, they blamed the food and the wine. But most of all, they blamed their loneliness: Blaine blamed the void in his heart and Kurt blamed the fact that he hadn't gotten laid for five months.

But as they lost count that night, touching each other with a fever and desire that wouldn't subside even as they reached the early hours of the night, they were out of ways of explaining it to themselves. They tried all they could, but they couldn't come up with anything else.

They didn't have anything left to blame.

* * *

_Eeeek. I'm sorry ok? As soon as I have to write something smutty I just freeze and nothing good comes out. _

_Anyhow... that was the long-awaited (at least on my part) chapter 14!_

_Hope you enjoyed!_


	15. Chapter 15

ANNALISE ANDERSON HUMMEL: BLAINE'S APARTMENT: SATURDAY MORNING (SO EARLY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?)

* * *

Trying to sleep had been a futile task the whole night, so when she finally woke in the morning and couldn't go back to sleep she decided to start her day.

The truth was that she had been restless. She wanted to find out what had happened the night before, if her plan had succeeded or not. She couldn't wait to find out if what she had done had brought her dads closer to each other than before. Either way, she decided that she was proud of her plan. She was happy that she'd been able to pull it off, but now she just wanted to see the results.

The first thing she did, after waking a zombie-like Clara to tell her she was leaving, was to get to Kurt's apartment.

But entering his apartment a half hour and a cab ride later, she quickly realized that it was empty. Annalise knew both her fathers well. Like that she knew that they both had a tendency to be workaholics, to go into work even on weekends when it was deemed necessary. Apart from that, she knew Kurt well enough to know that he would never go to work before seven in the morning no matter the day of the week. He was a night person to the core. So she should have found him sleeping in his bed. Yet he wasn't there.

Not being in his bed, and the sheets still looking neat and orderly like it had been newly made, only accounted for one possible conclusion: he had never gone to bed in the first place.

In turn, that couldn't mean anything but that her plan had worked even better than she had dared to hope.

Annalise got out of the apartment as fast as she could, running down the stairs until she could hail a cab on the street. She blessed New York City as she got into a car and gave the driver Blaine's address, because there was no other town in the world that had cabs so readily available around the clock. If there was, she had yet to know about it.

The distance wasn't far, just a few blocks, but she was too eager to witness with her own eyes what had happened to be able to walk that far. Walking was slow and driving was fast. She needed to know now, if there just hadn't been some grave mistake occurring. Patience was a virtue, and Annalise had always thought of herself as a sinner.

She took the elevator up, even though walking would have been faster. She may be desperate, but she was not ready to climb eighteen flights of stairs. Desperation could wait.

The elevator pinged when the doors closed and brought her up. She stared at the number growing higher slowly, tapping her foot nervously. The ride seemed to take forever. When she caught a glance of herself in the mirror, she saw no one she recognized. Her cheeks were rosy like a dozen containers of artificial blush, her eyes dark brown that was almost black, and her lips looked plump from all the nervous biting.

When the elevator pinged again, she almost jumped out of her skin. The doors slid up and she stepped out on unsteady legs.

Her hand trembled so much that she could barely fit the key into the lock, but when she finally succeeded she released a sigh. The door slid up, and she stepped into the hallway and closed the door as silently as she could.

The apartment looked the same as it always did, but there was something that was different about it. Annalise couldn't pinpoint what it was that had changed, but there was a shift that hung in the air. The apartment was quiet and still, eerily so. She removed her jacket and stepped out of her shoes. When she put her shoes on the shoe rack she saw them. Kurt's shoes. She dropped her jacket in surprise, having it land somewhere on the floor by her feet. She shouldn't have been surprised because she had known that this was a very likely possibility. Yet it felt like a dream.

That was because it was a dream. As long as she remembered, she had wanted her dads to be together and happy again. They got so little time the three of them. She barely remembered anything from that time. Getting a second chance at that had been the ultimate dream. It felt strange now, because dreams weren't real. They were aspiration that never came true. Yet this one did.

She hurled herself into the room, looking around for any sign of either of her dads. When she couldn't find any in the living room or the kitchen, except for an empty box and a recklessly tossed suit, she knew there was only one more place to look.

She was easy on her feet when she neared her dad's bedroom. The door was closed, but she didn't care. She had to know.

Silently the door opened, and Annalise's hands flew to her mouth. She'd found them. Both of them. Lying together, literally, holding on to each other and breathing steadily with a timed rise and fall. It almost looked like Blaine was smiling in his sleep.

The squeak that came out of her mouth was not her fault. The sight had made her so shocked and happy at once that she had forgotten to breathe so when she inhaled she did it too sharply, as if she hadn't breathed in a thousand years and was finally just doing it, so it happened with a squeal.

The sound was high pitched and loud, and it made Blaine wake with a start.

He rubbed at his eyes with one hand, and tried to reach for his eyes with his other hand. That one was stuck under Kurt's body, and the slight tug of his arm until he realized that made Kurt wake up too.

"Oh my god," Annalise mumbled into her damp palms, and Blaine's head twitched in her direction.

His eyes were narrowed in a hazy confusion until Kurt groaned at his side and rolled over. Blaine looked at Kurt, then back at Annalise with her hands clasped over her mouth and probably looking like she was having a stroke, and his eyes widened when reality dawned on him.

"Annie!" he said. He looked back and forth between her and Kurt before finally giving Kurt's shoulder a hard tug. He grabbed the cover over him and raised it to cover his bare chest before smiling shakily at Annalise. "Honey, uh..."

"What?" Kurt muttered, finally cracking an eye open. When he noticed Annalise standing there, and the state she was in, he bolted upright. "Annalise, what are you doing here?"

She let her hands drop to reveal her grin. "I could ask you the same thing, daddy."

He looked like he had no idea what to say.

Annalise was so full of joy that she didn't know what to do with herself. She wanted to skip around the apartment, jump up and down on a trampoline: to say it in simpler words, she was ecstatic.

She settled for hugging the door frame, clinging to the white pained wood. It was really her dads that she wanted to hug, but that would have been awkward because they were naked. But it didn't matter. She hugged the door frame and it felt like it hugged her back, like everything in the whole world was hugging her back.

"Annie, could you go wait in the living room please?" Blaine asked her.

Reluctantly, she peeled herself off the door frame and disappeared out of the room with a slight nod. She understood. It was a big change for them, too, and it must have been a shock for them to have her confront them about it so soon. Maybe she had made a mistake by dropping by. Maybe she should have called. Of course, then she wouldn't have known what had happened and it would have driven her nuts. But maybe that would have been the preferable option for her dads' sakes.

She sat on the sofa while she waited for them. She looked out through the windows at the towering skyscrapers that were somehow down below and up above at the same time. Light of morning tinted the cold blue sky with a warmer shade of yellow, yet the sun was nowhere to be seen within the black square frames of the windows. It was somewhere else entirely.

Before she had the time to go out of her mind, her dads emerged from the bedroom fully dressed an polished. Annalise couldn't know for sure, but it looked like they were both wearing day-old clothes: Blaine in the comfortable clothes she had bought him, and Kurt in a wrinkled outfit that looked like something he would wear to work. Appearing in front of her, not saying a word as they wore grim and serious faces, they looked like nothing happy had happened at all. In their old clothes, away from happiness, they looked as if everything that had happened yesterday up until that moment had been nothing but a dream.

Annalise thought that if her dads were about to deny that anything had happened... well, she wouldn't believe them, but she wouldn't have had any evidence to prove them wrong either. All of it would just have been... gone.

"Annie," Blaine said, sitting down on the coffee table facing her. Kurt remained standing by his side. "Your dad and I want to talk to you because while you're practically a grown up already, there are still so many complicated things that only make sense when you're older and have had more experience with those things."

Annalise started to wonder what her dad was getting at, but by the sound of it it wasn't anything good.

"We can't imagine what you must have thought and felt finding us like that," he continued, not really looking into her eyes but somewhere around her ear, as if he wanted to keep eye contact with her yet not daring to do it at all. "And I'm sorry you had to see that. We never intended to put you in the middle of anything, and I promise you that we won't."

Annalise frowned. She heard his words but she didn't understand them at all. Why was he saying these things? Why wasn't he just smiling because he finally had what he wanted?

"What your dad means," Kurt said, speaking up, "is that what you happened to see was a- a one-time thing… and you won't have to worry about it or what it means. We want you to know that this won't change anything."

He tried out a comforting smile, looking a little unsure doing it.

Everything was a mess. It was all backwards. They weren't supposed to be saying these things, and her eyes shouldn't be stinging from anger and disappointment. She thought that she had been done, that things had gone well. Everything was supposed to be working itself out now, not make things even harder. Maybe it was her fault. She was deeply starting to regret interrupting them.

"I don't understand," Annalise whispered in a rushed puff of air. "Why do you say that?"

Blaine's eyes finally looked at her, really looked at her, and she saw him frowning because he seemed to understand her just as much as she understood them. Meaning, not at all.

"What do you mean?" he prompted softly.

"This was supposed to fix things, not make them worse!" she yelled. She didn't care about keeping them in the dark anymore, she didn't care about the plan and if her words were wrecking it: this was the plan and it wasn't working. "Don't say these things to me! You're supposed to forgive each other, not hold grudges that don't mean anything! It's been years, and you're still acting like little kids! About something that went wrong but could have been fixed if you hadn't been so stubborn! You just don't do that!"

She shot up from the couch, the hands balling at her sides as she tried and failed to contain herself. She uttered one last thing while staring at her dads' alarmed faces.

"You don't do that to the people you love."

Turning abruptly, she sprinted toward the hallway. Her dads called after her, but she was out of there too fast for them to do anything to stop her. This time, she didn't take the elevator. She ran down the stairs, one flight at a time, not thinking about anything except making her feet land evenly on each step. Face-planting would have been the last thing to cheer her up then.

When she got out of the building and breathed the crisp morning air, she immediately picked up her phone. She dialed the second number from the top of her recent calls and pressed the green button.

She walked slowly while she waited for the call to connect. The walk was unsteady because all the anger and sadness and all the running had made her legs shake something terribly.

"Annie, what time is it?" David groaned as he picked up.

"Oh," she breathed, drawing a shaky breath. "Sorry, I forgot it's still early. I thought you might be at work."

He must have picked up her the tremble in her voice because he asked, "Is something wrong?"

Her answer was immediate. "Yes."

"Take a cab to Hotel Belleclaire on two-fifty west seventy seventh street. I'll be down in a minute."

"Hotel?"

He sighed. "Just come. It's a long story."

* * *

_I have an announcement to make. You may or may not have realized that I won't be able to finish this fic before November, which I deeply apologize about. I honestly thought could do it. But now we're here and there's nothing to do but try to make the best of it. I might be able to post another chapter before this week is over, but I'm not going to make any promises. NaNoWriMo is my top priority at the moment, and that's what I need to focus on. Worst case scenario, there won't be another update until December. Again, I'm really sorry. But it's the best I can give you._

_xx_


	16. Chapter 16

KURT HUMMEL: SEVERAL POSSIBLE WEDDING VENUES: THURSDAY DAY

* * *

No. Just no. It was all wrong. Sure, the ceiling was tall and the walls were made of a nice rustic shade of maple tree wood. In that aspect, the venue looked fantastic. But there were no windows. Not one in the whole reception area of the venue. The place would be crammed with all the guests coming to the wedding reception. The place was just too small. Kurt felt claustrophobic just thinking about it.

Rachel smacked her hands together with a tentative grin on her lips. The sound of her palms colliding echoed through the room as she watched him expectantly.

"What do you think?" she asked, seeming to be holding her breath as she waited for his reply.

Kurt was about to give her a piece of his mind for suggesting that they even went to see the place in person at all, but he hesitated. His mouth snapped shut and he folded his hands behind his back. The ice blue suit jacket he was wearing constricted around his shoulders, tightened around him. His eyes instantly fluttered shut, feeling two strong arms wrap around him from behind. The arms felt boiling hot against his heated skin, and he shivered when he felt the body pressed against his back, and the tight press against his ass.

The breath he drew was sharp, so sharp that when he opened his eyes he found the two wedding planners setting up the venue for tonight's reception throwing questioning looks his way.

He turned back to Rachel, promptly ignoring the vivid images that had been plaguing his head the whole week.

"Why did we even go all this way uptown? For this?" Kurt gestured with a hand around the room. "It's pitiful."

"This venue is amazing and you know it," Rachel shot back instantly. But when she silenced, a frown etched onto her features.

"What's going on, Kurt?" she asked, and her voice was hushed. The two middle aged people setting up the venue were on the other side of the room, but in the emptiness the acoustics were incredible. "You have been picky about every single venue we've looked at, even though they were all great."

Kurt scoffed. "They were _not_ all great!"

"Fine," Rachel said with a dramatic eye roll. "The second one we saw had a slight smell to it-"

"It was placed next to a garbage central!"

"Okay, alright." She pulled out a folding chair from one of the tables set up and sat down on it. "But all the others were original designs with rough potential. Yet you kept picking on the tiniest details with every single one."

"This wedding has to be perfect, Rachel. Did you forget that?" Kurt started pacing. "Ventilation is not a minor, insignificant detail. It's one of the more important aspects of picking a venue for two hundred people. If it easily gets stuffy then no one is going to have a good time. How could they, if they broke a seat _walking toward_ the dance floor?"

Rachel did not say a word. Instead she pulled out the chair next to hers and patted it.

With an exasperated sigh, Kurt sank onto the chair.

"I know how important this job is, Kurt. Believe me, I do. And I know that you do, too. Is that what this is about? Stress and pressure?"

"Is what about?"

She tilted her head to her side, inspecting him. "You have been distant the whole week, Kurt. It's like your mind has been somewhere else entirely, and that I have been left to make all the important decisions on my own."

Kurt gave her his best glare. "That's not true."

"Then what is?" she asked. "You can't tell me I'm wrong."

Kurt said nothing. Rachel leaned onto the table, closer to him.

"Look around, Kurt," she said. "This would be a perfect venue for the wedding reception. Aisha would love it. I know she would. _You_ know she would."

"But there are no windows," he protested lamely.

"So? You of all people know how to work that to your favor. We didn't get this far in the business by not knowing what to do when things don't work out the way we planned."

Kurt glanced around the room. "Increased lighting, for sure. But not those overheard lamps, they are disgusting. Make the darkness in here your friend, like covering the ceiling with Christmas lights like a starry night."

Rachel smiled tightly. "See? You do know. You're just distracted. So what's up, Kurt? Are you okay?"

Kurt exhaled slowly. "I haven't been okay since this weekend. I think I made a mistake. I did something really bad." He shut his eyes, grimacing. "With Blaine."

"Oh my God." Rachel covered her mouth with her hands. "Did you sleep with Blaine?"

Opening his eyes, he nodded. "Um, yeah. That."

"Oh my God," she said again. "How did it happen? I don't… how come you guys…?"

"It was Annalise's fault," he protested, wrapping his arms around himself.

Rachel raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows, tapping her long fingers against the tabletop.

"Exactly how did your daughter make you have sex with your ex-husband?"

"She set it up!" Kurt exclaimed. "She- she made this dinner, but I came over- but the sleepover- Blaine in sweatpants- oh, and that was her doing, too!"

"You are insane," Rachel said, dumbfounded. "And I didn't catch any of that."

"You see, she-"

"I wasn't asking you to elaborate!" she exclaimed. She hummed to herself, watching him. "Have you slept with him other than that one time?"

Kurt didn't say a word.

"Kurt?"

"Technically, no. But it depends on what you'd count."

"Kurt!"

Shooting up from his seat, Kurt tried to stop himself from blushing. Though it was a difficult task when Rachel was beaming at him the way she did.

"No, I haven't slept with him since this weekend. I haven't even talked to him since. But… well, it was more than one time."

Rachel's eyes looked as if they were trying to budge out of her head.

"How many?" she demanded. "_How many times?_"

Kurt felt himself blush harder. He thought that he had gotten over being embarrassed about such things, but he guessed he was wrong. He still had a little bit of a lingering schoolboy inside him.

He shifted between his feet. "I stopped counting at four," he said, quickly walking away to examine the makeshift stage that had been set up in the venue.

But Rachel was quick to follow him.

"Oh my God!" Did she not know how to say anything else? "So what does this mean?"

He turned to face her, already getting over this conversation. "I don't know, Rach. That's what I have been wondering myself ever since."

"You said it was a mistake," she reminded him.

"Isn't it?"

She gave him a sympathetic look. "Maybe it isn't."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Not you too."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Annalise…" He shook his head at the memory. "She wants me and Blaine to get back together, and when we told her that it wasn't happening she got upset. It doesn't just work like that, you know? People don't just kiss and make up. We broke up for reasons."

"Reasons as in more than one?"

"There were reasons," he said defensively. Then he bit his lip. "Fine, _a_ reason."

"A reason that doesn't exist anymore."

Before he could protest, she continued.

"You can't blame her for wanting you guys to be happy, and even though you say that what happened was her fault… I know you know it's not. Maybe you should stop thinking about what it means for you and Blaine and Annalise, and think more about what you want it to mean."

She was right. Kurt knew she was. She always was, somehow.

"Even if it did mean something…" he began, leaning against the stage. "I just don't know if I'm ready to get involved with Blaine again. It was such a roller coaster the first time around, and it ended so badly. I think I'd die if I had to go through that again. It was too hard. I'm not ready… and I don't know if I ever will be again."

* * *

_Hey guys!_

_Long time no see, no? Short update this time, but yay for an update at all! November is over and so is Nanowrimo thankfully! It was one busy month but I came out on the other side a winner and now I'm waiting for my novel to land in my mailbox :D _

_The reason why this update took a while was because after November I needed a little break from writing. Also this whole deal with my sister's birthday, my mom's birthday, my birthday, Christmas shopping, working long shifts... there just wasn't time. And December will be a busy month for sure. BUT I will try to update at least once a week until this fic is completed!_

_Until then, have a nice day/night and happy December!_


	17. Chapter 17

BLAINE ANDERSON: BLAINE'S OFFICE: THURSDAY DAY

* * *

The whole week had been a long string of hazy memories that seemed to have come from something of a distant dream. Every day had been the same. He had not been able to focus on work, and his days had consisted of him staring at his computer screen trying to do work, but ending up lost in the fantasies that played in his mind on a constant loop.

Except that they weren't fantasies. They were real. Well… some of them. It had happened on more than one occasion that his mind had gotten carried away so much that he had had to take the matter into his own hands during office hours.

Those were not some of his prouder moments.

Nonetheless, the visions kept coming back no matter what he did.

"I'd say we hire a private eye to look into both the husband and wife before we decide to take the case," Wes muttered, skimming his eyes over a piece of paper. "You know custody cases: they always get messy unless you upturn every rock before you begin."

He looked up from the pile in his hands and over the desk at Blaine.

"Wait, are you talking about the Hillman case?" Blaine asked, trying to find the folder on his messy desk about the custody case he had assigned to Mrs. Wander the week before.

"No, I'm talking about Newman and Johnson," Wes said, throwing him a questioning look.

"I'm sorry, I know I should be on top of this…" Blaine said lamely. "But what about the case with the abused kid?"

"That _is _Newman and Johnson," Wes reminded him gently.

Blaine leaned back in his chair and folded his hands together with a sigh. "Of course it is."

"Where are you, Blaine?" Wes asked him, furrowing his eyebrows in concern.

Blaine frowned, too. "What do you mean? I'm right here."

"You're not, though. Your mind is somewhere else entirely." Wes exhaled slowly, putting the papers in his hands aside. He tried stacking them on the desk, but right about now they had so many case folders pulled out for report that the papers just kept sliding away. He eventually settled for putting them on the floor.

"You and I are in the same league as the best attorneys in the Tri-State area," Wes stated, making Blaine smile. "But recently you're constantly distant, late for work, unfocused… it's not you. So where are you?"

Blaine's smile disappeared from his face, so quickly that he wasn't quite sure it was ever there to begin with.

"I know I haven't been myself lately…"

"No, you haven't. And I can't think that it's only to do with you being tired of your repetitive cases. If it is about that, then maybe you should think about taking some time off."

Blaine's eyes widened and he leaned onto the desk, looking menacingly at Wes.

"Oh, please, like being out of work could do me any good. _Me_?" He tilted his head to the side. "Do you know me at all?"

"Of course I do, which is why it should tell you a lot when I say that this changed version of you should take a break."

"No." Blaine shook his head reverently. Even more time for his mind to roam freely was the absolute last thing he needed. Time off work would only make all his problems increase tenfold. "No, I need to work. I think I need _more_ work. That's what I need. More work, more challenges. Maybe I should take on more, keep my mind in check."

With a couple of clicks, Blaine pulled up his workload schedule and visibly flinched at the look of it. What was he thinking? More work? That was the last thing he needed; he could barely keep up with the cases as it was.

Wes pressed his lips together sympathetically. "How could I give you more work when you can't even deal with what you've got?" He sighed. "I'd hate to do this to you, but I think I should reassign your work to Smythe and Ashlund, and send you home for the week."

Blaine's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious!"

On the list of things he wanted to happen, Smythe getting his cases wasn't even at the bottom of the list – it wasn't on the list at all! It was not that there was anything wrong with the upcoming twenty-something attorney with a killer confidence and hardworking spirit. Blaine didn't mind him as a person… except that he did. He knew Smythe was after his job, since the guy wasn't smart enough to keep his intentions to himself. It was even with pride that he had told Blaine on his first day at the firm that he took a habit out of ass-kissing his bosses while simultaneously pulling the rug from under their feet.

"You can't give that weasel my job!"

"He's not a weasel, Blaine," Wes said, trying so hard to sound stern while trying not to laugh that it looked like he was grimacing and choking at the same time.

"Yes, he is. He's a weaseling meerkat."

Wes couldn't even stop the chuckle that bubbled up inside him, but Blaine just pouted.

"Fine, he's a meerkat."

"You could at least try to make it a little hard for him to steal my job."

"No one's stealing anything. But just sitting in your office isn't gonna get any work done. So until you figure out whatever it is that's keeping your mind from joining us here at the firm, I don't wanna see your annoyingly handsome face around here." Wes gave him a small smile. "I'm doing this as your friend, Blaine," he said quietly.

"I know," Blaine replied with a nod that was a little too frantic to be calm.

"And when you've fixed whatever it is you need to fix, I will be waiting in my office for you to come say so."

Blaine nodded and rose from his chair. "I think you might be right, but I feel slightly anxious and out of breath right now. Is it normal to feel your throat constrict at the thought of time from work?"

He tried to joke it off, but the breezy laughter he was aiming for at the end of the sentence sounded more like a whine.

Wes stood up and walked around Blaine's desk. He raised a hand and patted Blaine's shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'll redistribute your cases and make sure they get the second best people working on them. They'll be safe with me. Just go home and get some rest. If I see you again before this time next week, I will send you home. Okay?"

"Okay." Blaine grabbed his briefcase and his jacket and walked up to the door to his office before he turned around. Wes was already sitting by his computer, looking at the schedule he'd left up.

"Hey, Wes?"

Wes looked up from the computer screen. "Yeah?"

"Hypothetically, if two people had struggled to get along for a really long time, do you think there was a chance that they could ever reconcile?"

Wes narrowed his eyes and watched Blaine for a beat, but finally he nodded. "Sure. If they wanted to, I think they could do it. I think they could do most anything if they put their minds to it."

Blaine nodded his head once. "Thanks," he mumbled, before closing the door to his office for the last time in a while. A little while, at least. Because Wes was right: he couldn't keep living like this. It had to come to an end.

* * *

_Hi guys! It's been a while again, because I have literally been so busy. But to make up for it I have this lil chapter right here and *fingers crossed* I might finish the next one tonight and upload it too. But if not tonight then after work tomorrow. Stay tuned!_


	18. Chapter 18

RACHEL BERRY: RACHEL'S OFFICE: FRIDAY MORNING

* * *

"So we have the playlists for the band and the DJ?" Kurt asked her, eyes fixed on his day planner with a thick, brown leather binding. The pages up until tomorrow were filled with notes and appointments, and more than a fair few of colorful post-its. "Enough songs for the whole night and into the brightest morning hours? There's nothing worse than repetitive playlists, Rachel. Don't make me remind you of the Carlson wedding." He visibly shuddered.

"I know that," she assured him, remembering it too. It had been one of their first weddings, and they had done great in all arrangements but one... the music. There had been a slight miscalculation about how long the guests would actually want to stay, and by the end of the night a few people were sighing as _Dancing Queen_ came on for the third time, while others took the opportunity to sing along at the top of their lungs. "Just like I knew that the first, second and third time you reminded me about it."

Kurt looked up from the planner in order to give her a deadly stare.

"Are you trying to amuse me?" he asked her, and it sounded like an accusation. "Do you think that this is the time to be amusing?"

"Clearly not."

"Rachel, the wedding is tomorrow!"

"Oh, thanks for telling me; I hadn't realized!"

Kurt stared at her in silence while looking like a bull ready to prance on her: his eyes wide and piercing, his breathing labored, and his chest heaving in a quick rhythm.

Rachel ran a hand over her face. "Look, I know you're freaked out about tomorrow. I am, too. But we've done everything we could: there is nothing left to organize! The only thing left is for the lovely couple to say their "I do's" before we can start working again."

It looked like Kurt was inflatable and someone pierced him with a needle when he fell onto the chair opposite her desk.

"That's not true," he said tiredly. "Our work starts tomorrow morning when we have to start setting up the church and the venue."

Rachel put her head to the side, pursing her lips. "All we really have left is make a bunch of calls to make sure everything is on track. And I have to do is call NAME about which song she wanted for her and HIS dance as a married couple." She tried out a small smile. "Relax, Kurt. We did it."

A tentative smile reached his lips, too. "Yeah." He huffed and shook his head in disbelief. "I guess we did."

"How are you, Kurt?" she asked tentatively. "I mean, with everything else?"

Kurt shook his head. "Please, let's not talk about this now."

"That bad, huh?"

Kurt shut his eyes tightly for a moment, making wrinkles appear between his eyebrows. When he opened them again, they looked vibrant and blue.

"Annalise is fine, though a little distant. I think she still hasn't quite forgiven me yet."

"And Blaine?"

Kurt shrugged. "I haven't talked to him since."

"At all?"

"No, we haven't spoken at all."

"Don't you think you ought to? I mean, it's not like nothing has happened."

"Might as well be."

"But why don't you try to-"

Kurt rose from the chair. "This qualifies as us talking about it, so I'm just gonna leave now."

Rachel's mouth snapped shut, and she let out a long breath. "Fine. Call the florist to make sure they're on track," she told him.

He nodded his head appreciatively before heading out of her office.

As soon as he had gone, Rachel dove for the phone and dialed the number she'd practically had on hold for the last two weeks. She pressed the phone to her ear and swiveled on her office chair until she was facing the window.

Mostly Rachel focused her eyes within her office walls instead of venturing out, because the view wasn't spectacular. It was a somewhat quiet street and her window faced another office building. Though today she could see silhouettes playing around inside the glass building across the street.

"Rachel, what's up?" came her voice on the other end.

"Aisha, hi! How are you feeling today? Only one more night until the big day!"

"Yes," she giggled, then sighed. "One night. It is making me feel nauseously nervous," she gushed.

"Well, that's only to be expected of a bride-to-be," Rachel agreed. "Though I can assure you that you have nothing to worry about in the practical department. Kurt and I are on top of everything."

"Good, good. So how come you called?"

"I just realized you hadn't told me what song you wanted to hear when you and Thomas have your first dance as married. Do you have one that we could put on the playlist?"

"Oh," she breathed. "No, I… I hadn't even thought about it."

"Do you think Thomas has a song he'd prefer?"

"Um… I don't know. I… no, I wouldn't think so. He is not really _that_ kind of guy."

Rachel didn't ask what "that" kind of guy was, and if Thomas not being it was a good thing or not.

Instead she smiled, because it was too good to be true.

"If you don't have a preference, may I suggest one? Do you like the Beatles?"

"I have never minded the Beatles."

"How about 'Blackbird' for your wedding song?"

"Oh! _Oh!_ Yes, that would be lovely! As soon as you said Beatles that's the one I thought about."

Rachel's smile widened. "Perfect, Blackbird it is."

Yes, it really was perfect… the way everything was working out.

* * *

_Sorry for any errors. I am really tired right now so I'll review the chapter later. And sorry for it being so short, I know you guys don't like that. I guess I ran out of things to say for now. It's kinda hard to focus on this story when I'm dying to write on another one. Oh well. See you again soon!_


	19. Chapter 19

ANNALISE ANDERSON HUMMEL: RECEPTION VENUE: SATURDAY AFTERNOON, ONE HOUR UNTIL

* * *

There was only one word that truly described the setting in front of her eyes: flawless. Twinkling lights lined the walls, and each and every table had an arrangement with several different white and ice blue flowers. The rustic of the interior of the venue was smoothed off with the black velvet curtains and the white table linens.

The makeshift stage where the band was going to play was lined with dusty pink roses, apparently one for each of the couple's missed opportunities that they were now bringing an end to.

Looking at all those roses, Annalise felt a sadness lurking in her chest, and she put a hand to her heart. Why Aisha and Thomas wanted to be reminded of all those failures, Annalise didn't know. But she saw them, too many to count, and wondered if those were as many as her dads would have when they'd reached the same age.

Her dads were only in their mid-thirties, Aisha and Thomas nearing fifty, and thinking about it all felt so useless. They had spent years alone in vain, all four of them. Were her dads really going to wait for all those roses to blossom before they noticed them? How long were they going to pretend that they weren't the unstoppable force and the immovable object, bound headfirst to collision?

She spotted Rachel by one of the tables, double checking and triple checking that the tableware looked proper and that the place cards were set. Annalise thought she looked amazing in her dark red, one shoulder dress and the loose bun at the back of her head, while her eyes were intensely focused on what was in front of her. A fleeting thought passed through her head, wondering if the guy Rachel met at the last wedding was the one for her or not, and whether that was something you still wondered when you were all grown up.

Annalise walked up to Rachel, feeling a question circulate in her head.

"Rachel, do grown-ups believe in fairy tales?"

Rachel's hand froze where it held a place card mid-air, and she glanced up at Annalise with a frown.

"What do you mean, sweetie?"

Annalise bit the inside of her cheek. "Do you think Brody is the one for you?"

Rachel chuckled, setting down the card on the table. Her hand reach up almost instinctively to her hair to put the lock that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear.

With a small smile and a light voice, she said, "We've only been going out for a few weeks."

"That's what I'm talking about," Annalise sighed in frustration, pulling out a chair with a rose decoration on it – while Rachel pressed her lips together to not tell her for the third time not to touch anything before the guests arrived – and sitting down. "In fairy tales, the prince hears the princess' song and knows she's the one he's been waiting for."

The frown Rachel had been sporting a moment ago reappeared on her face.

"That's love at first sight. Not all fairy tales are like that." Her eyes narrowed. "Beauty and the Beast isn't. Neither is Tangled or-"

When Annalise heaved a loud sigh, Rachel stopped talking. Instead she pulled out a chair of her own and sat down.

"What's going on, Anna?"

"Aren't you supposed to know, when you meet someone, if they are right for you or not?" she asked, her eyes wide and innocent. "I mean, I get the whole deal with how it works in the real world, and that fairy tales are just stories, but don't you believe it's possible to know if someone is right or wrong for you? Isn't that something you feel?"

"Of course you feel that," Rachel said, putting her hand on top of Annalise's. "But sometimes you need time before you can make up your mind. And there's nothing bad about that. It's just so that you can make sure that you're not saying goodbye to someone who could be amazing for you when they get the chance to know everything about you."

Shaking her head, Annalise withdrew her hand from under Rachel's. "That's exactly what I mean, though. Have you never just known that someone was right for you, and that you just knew, right from the start, that your life had changed forever? Have you never met someone and known they would be a part of you for the rest of your life?"

She could feel herself grasping at straws, but for some reason she just needed to know that sometimes things were just as simple as that. She needed to know that sometimes you knew there would never be an end, no matter what happened along the way. Maybe knowing that it was possible gave her dads a chance.

When she looked at Rachel, Rachel looked sad.

"Rach?" she asked carefully.

Rachel smiled a dazzling, bright smile, but her eyes were teary. She nodded fiercely.

"Sometimes you meet someone, and a part of you thinks it will last forever," she said, and her voice shook but she still sounded strong. "But you can be wrong. Even though you both love each other, and are ready to make the rest of your life happen, life doesn't always agree."

This time it was Annalise's turn to put her hand on Rachel's.

"What happened?"

Rachel shook her head. "We were both so young," she said, her voice brimming with laughter. "So young and so silly. But we thought that standing at the altar and saying 'until death do us part' would happen before any dying ever would. But we were both wrong."

She pressed a hand to her cheek and captured a tear that rolled down her cheek, pink with blush and with life.

"I'm so sorry," was all Annalise could think of saying. What were you supposed to say when no words could ever suffice?

Rachel's hand turned under hers and squeezed.

"Since then, I've been thinking that maybe there isn't just one person for everybody. On the one hand I want there to be, because if you only got one person then I wouldn't want anyone but him. But if there is just one for everyone…" She moved her hand to her other cheek, catching a second escaped tear. "If there is just one, then what do I have left?" She let her hand drop from her face, and she sniffled. "I can't think that he's the only one for me anymore, because then I have nothing left."

"You have a lot left," Annalise said certainly. "You have me, and Kurt, and Blaine, and the business that's gonna bloom after tonight. You're going to give those couples your everything, because you will know how blessed they are! And you're never going to spend a holiday alone, because you have us. You will travel places and see the world, and you will see it through your eyes and know what it means to you because you have lost but you can still keep going. You're also going to wear expensive designer clothes and have "me time" every day because being self-indulgent is a luxury you know is never too soon to indulge in."

Rachel chuckled, and Annalise smiled.

"You have a hot twenty six year old at your feet who's just desperate to hear you say that he can be your boy toy, your boyfriend, or your anything, because he knows you're amazing. He can keep you company during nights were the old memories seem like brand new, and he will be there when you need him and be gone when you're strong enough to stand alone."

"What makes you think any guy would be any woman's doormat?" Rachel asked curiously.

"All men are the same: they fear obligations. They're like the animals who are pets but dream of being wild. And their pet peeve is clingy women. And you… you will never be clingy."

"No?" she asked doubtfully.

"No," Annalise assured. "Because you know he's not the one. He's not the one, so you don't need him. You don't need him, but you want him, and there's a difference. You don't depend on him, and he can sense that. He knows you don't need him, and will only keep him around as long as he's good to you and is what you need. And if you would ever grow lonely, he would be there for you. When you got over the travels, the clothes, and the job, he could give you a baby, and that baby would become your whole world. You would watch the baby grow up, you would teach it things, and you would be needed and loved and looked up to for the rest of your life. And if there's no meaning in that, just because you're not with your one true love right now, then you will find another meaning. I know you will. Because there are people who give up at the face of tragedy, and there are the ones who grow. And, Rachel? You are fierce."

"What do you mean by me not being with my one love 'right now'?" Rachel asked.

Annalise shrugged. "Maybe it's silly, but I don't believe it's over. I don't believe this was all you got. Because you will have a wonderful life, but there will be a time in the future, in another world, when you will be walking about your daily business, content with your life, and you will find him again. You will see him and you will know, just like the first time, that he's the one for you. It won't matter who he is, or who you are, or if there are obstacles, because all that will matter is that you've found each other again. And that time, it will last."

Rachel's mouth hung slightly open, and her eyes were wet with unshed tears. She seemed taken aback by the way their conversation had gone, and to be honest, Annalise was a little shocked too. She hadn't realized until then how highly she thought of Rachel and how much she valued her happiness, and suddenly she needed her to know.

"Until then, you will still have people who love you," she said. "I don't think of you as my dad's friend: you're family. And I love you."

"I love you, too, Anna," Rachel whispered and leaned forward to catch her in a tight hug.

They held each other close for several minutes, trying to embrace and hang on to everything that they were feeling. Feelings of pain and sadness always lingered in some form or another, but it could be a good thing too. It often required a certain amount of darkness to appreciate the moments when you were fully and truly happy.

When they finally broke apart, Rachel was shaking her head.

"Weddings always make me so emotional," she scoffed, carefully wiping tears away from her face without smudging her makeup with one hand, as the other one still held on to Annalise.

"Good thing you don't have to be around them a lot," Annalise joked.

Rachel smiled.

"You look stunning in that dress, by the way," she said, changing the topic. "I forgot to tell you. Kurt is going to have a breakdown when he sees you."

Annalise was wearing the same one shouldered, draped dress that Rachel was wearing, except that hers was in a light pink.

"Thanks, so do you. Really."

Kurt wasn't there at the venue, it was just the two of them. He was at the wedding like everybody else, but Annalise didn't feel any loss at missing it. It couldn't have been that different anyway, from where she was now. The same amount of love was probably in the air at both places, with similar amounts of crying.

Love and tears. What was there not to love about weddings?

"Well, we can't sit here all night, can we?" Rachel said. "If I don't remember wrong, you have an important phone call to make."

Annalise smiled. "Your memory is still impeccable," she said, pulling up her phone from her small, velvet purse. She scrolled through the contacts, until she had her dad's number pulled up.

"Well, it's now or never," she said, pressing the call button. "Here goes nothing."

* * *

_I honestly don't know what happened with this chapter. I blame **I need you** by **M83**, I listened to it on repeat and it made me write all of this. Weird. Anyway, only a few more chapters to go! Eeep!_


	20. Chapter 20

BLAINE ANDERSON: BLAINE'S OFFICE: SATURDAY NIGHT, ONE HOUR UNTIL

* * *

Outside is dark, the kind of dark the city gets at night that never quite extends fully from the sky all the way down to the ground. Blaine sat by his desk, the only light on in his office the small lamp on his desktop and the cold white light of his computer screen. Logically, he knew that the office was closed and that no one would walk in on him. Though he didn't dare to turn all the lights on and fully acknowledge that he was there, because he wasn't supposed to be.

God, Wes would kill him if he knew.

It wasn't even that he was desperate to get back to work, or that he missed it, that brought him here tonight. He'd had the time to come to terms with the fact that Smythe was getting most of his cases, and that he would only get half pay the days he wasn't there. He'd had time to think about a lot of things, and come to terms with them. Truth was the he had run out of things to do at home - the whole place was cleaned, laundry was washed, dried and folded, taxes and bills were paid and food was regularly cooked and consumed - and his office was the last place he knew where to look for solace and some peace of mind. It didn't help that he hadn't gotten Annalise over the weekend like he was supposed to have. She would have kept his mind at ease. It was all because of that wedding Kurt and Rachel were arranging.

The truth was the he was no closer to coming to any sort of resolution about the whole Kurt thing. On one hand, he wanted him, wanted to be with him, and knew that none of his other relationships had worked out because he still wasn't over him. Somehow. But that's where the simple terms end and the difficult ones begin.

Blaine spun his chair 180 degrees until he was facing the wall-to-ceiling windows displaying the city night. He tapped his fingers against one of the arm rests and slid down on the chair until he was slouching on it.

He wanted Kurt physically, and craved being around him and being able to touch him. There was no problem in that department, and he thought the same went for Kurt. _Mentally_ was a different story. Of course he would have no problems getting back together with Kurt, that step was cake. But he had no clue what it would be like to be back there, living together, sharing everything like they once had. He knew he shouldn't over-think it, but what if they decided to try again and it ended badly this time, too? The first time it was about money, and while that wouldn't be a problem again, who was to say that they wouldn't find something else to tear them apart? Maybe they were bound for one and the same outcome. He knew he wouldn't be able to handle that.

And there was no way to promise someone a forever.

Blaine closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had gone over this so many times, but he was nowhere closer to figuring anything out than when he had first started.

Besides, there was the whole issue that he hadn't spoken to Kurt since that night, and the minor, tiny little detail that he had no idea if Kurt ever thought about him at all. Maybe Kurt was fine with the way things were, with being alone. Maybe he was even happy, being without Blaine.

Blaine ran his hands over his face, sighing to himself. He had to stop torturing himself and just man up and talk to Kurt. He _was_ going to talk to him... but first he just needed to figure out what to say. Did he want to get back together with Kurt or did he need even more distance than before to get over him?

Maybe Wes had been wrong and right at the same time. What if he needed time off from work, but not to rest up at home, but to go away for a while? After all, he never allowed himself to get closure. With the divorce, the custody issues, and having Annalise, he somehow always found himself around Kurt and spending forced time with him. Maybe what he needed was to not see him at all, for a while, in order to remember what it was he really wanted from his life and from a potential partner. After all, they had never truly ended. Kurt had made it clear how he felt all that time ago, yes, but the "break" part of "break up" had somehow been forgotten.

They had never really said goodbye.

The signal on his phone rang out loud and clear, vibrating atop his desk. He opened his eyes and sat up in his chair, spinning it around and grabbing his phone. He smiled when he saw Annalise's name on the screen, but frowned, too.

"Hey, Annie," he said. "Aren't you at the wedding reception? Is something wrong?"

"It hasn't started yet, relax!" she said and giggled. But her giggles were cut short, and she sighed. "But everything's not fine. Not really."

"What's wrong?" he asked again, starting to feel concerned. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Dad," she said quietly. She paused.

"Then what is it?" Blaine smiled nervously. Annalise was always one to ramble endlessly over the phone with her bubbly voice, which was why her cautious silence worried him now. "You're starting to freak me out."

"I'm fine," she repeated. "But Kurt isn't."

Blaine's heart skipped a beat, but he didn't push. He waited for her to continue.

"He pretends like he's fine, but the truth is that he isn't. He can't stop thinking about you, Dad. He's thinking about getting back together with you, but he's scared. But I can see that he wants to."

Her words baffled him. That had been the last thing he had expected her to say. Still, hearing the words being said was nowhere near as confusing as Annalise being the one saying them.

"How do you know this?" Blaine asked suspiciously.

"He told me so," she said quickly.

Blaine sighed. "He told you do," he repeated dully. "He told you he was thinking about me?"

"Yes."

A part of him wanted to believe her, but he also knew that she was lying. There was no way that Kurt would tell Annalise anything he was thinking or feeling when it came to Blaine, because they both knew how biased she was. Kurt wouldn't tell her that, possibly giving her false hope when they knew how much she wanted it to happen. He wouldn't do that to her, there was no way.

"I'm sure you misunderstood him," Blaine muttered.

"I don't know, Dad," she said, sounding impatient, "how do you misinterpret: 'I wish he would fight for me, despite everything that's been said and done, and tell me that I shouldn't give up on him because then I'd be giving up on my only dream. I wish he'd say that just because he knew that's all I needed to hear'?"

Blaine swallowed around the dry lump in his throat that hadn't been there a minute ago.

"He said that?" he asked shakily, hardly able to believe it yet feeling like it was exactly something Kurt would say. It sounded just crazy enough to be true. The words reminded him of his last attempt to try to get Kurt back all those years ago, when they'd fought and Kurt had slammed the door in his face. _You were my only dream, Blaine._

It did sound like something Kurt would say. It just didn't make sense.

"He did, I promise. I'm not making it up," Annalise said on the other end, and she sounded sincere.

"I don't…" he said, trailing off. A few moments ago, he'd been ready to get away because he believed that Kurt didn't care about him. Now he had no idea what to think. Kurt wanted him to fight for him? For some reason, the thought didn't terrify him: it sprung him to life. His cheeks felt flushed and his heartbeats sped up. His hands were starting to shiver with excitement, with hope that barely kept him from springing out of his chair.

But... despite knowing that Kurt still had feeling for him, had anything really changed? They'd still be in the same position, not knowing if it would be possible to save what they once had.

In only a few seconds, Blaine had managed to go from ecstatic to depressed.

"You have to come," Annalise said, and her words surprised him.

"What do you mean?"

"To the wedding reception! Kurt wants you to, don't you see? He wants you to make the Big Gesture, and what's a better time and place than at the celebration of a wedding?"

"I don't know, Annie…" Blaine said unsurely.

"With that attitude you'll get nothing, Dad," she said in annoyance. "But…" She took a breath. "Kurt also told me that he wanted you to come, he wanted you to walk up to him and take him in your arms and dance with him. He said that he didn't need words anymore; that they had never worked anyway. All he wants is some action."

Blaine's mouth hung open, and he scratched an itchy spot on his hairline.

"I don't know what to say, sweetie. This came so suddenly, and I…" He paused. "Why isn't he the one telling me all this?"

"Because he's afraid, like you. He doesn't think you're willing to fight anymore." Annalise inhaled sharply. "And, Dad?"

"Yeah?" Blaine breathed.

"Show him he's wrong."

She hung up before he could say anything else, and he put the phone back on his desk.

He stayed in his chair for a few minutes, thinking about the phone call he'd just had and how much it had changed what he had been thinking and planning. But it didn't make his mind any clearer. On his computer, he pulled up United Airlines' website and checked the available domestic flights they had. Their last minute rates were surprisingly good.

Before he decided on whether or not to book anything, he pushed his chair back from the desk and went up to the windows overlooking the tall buildings around him and the bustling of lights and movement down below.

He rested his head against it, like he often did at home, and felt the cold against his skin. He pushed his whole body up against the glass, and like every time he did that, the thought flashed through his mind that the glass might just break and send him falling to his death. He supposed that's why he liked doing it; he knew he'd never fall but the thrill always wakened him and made him feel alive. Wasn't that the irony of it all: you came close to death to feel alive, and breaking up made you realize you were in love?

There were only two options available, only two ways to go from here: either he would jump on a plane and try to distance himself from the chaos, or he would hail a cab to the wedding reception and let himself fall.

Would he fly, or would he fall?

There were only two options, and as he turned his head away from the window he knew what to do.

* * *

_Soon._


	21. Chapter 21

ANNALISE ANDERSON HUMMEL: RECEPTION VENUE: SATURDAY NIGHT, THIRTY MINUTES UNTIL

* * *

The night was surprisingly crisp as Annalise busted out through the doors of the wedding reception's lobby and out to the entrance decorated with heaps of candles and even more dusty pink roses. The candles flickered in the faint wind, dancing around in the darkness of the sidewalk.

Out there, she saw him. He was waiting for her, ready as planned. He was wearing a navy beanie and a leather jacket zipped up to the neck, his arms wrapped around himself. When he saw her, he smiled.

"Did you make the call? Is he coming?" David asked, walking up to her side.

Annalise still hadn't gotten used to seeing David outside of his shifts at 7-Eleven, even though they had met up a handful of times at different places around the city. Well, most of the time they had hung out at his hotel room, where he lived with his mom after they'd been forced to escape his stepdad. It had been a really messy situation, and Annalise had felt weird that he'd told her about it all even though they barely knew each other. Then again, he was in on Operation Blackbird and getting her dads back together, so maybe they weren't really strangers anymore.

Annalise nodded, releasing a breath. "I did. I don't know if he's coming or not, but if I know him at all... then I'd bet that he will. He'd be crazy not to."

David nodded shakily. "Sweet."

Bringing up the phone still in her hand, she looked at the map she had pulled up on it.

"According to Google Maps the cab ride from his office to here will take about twenty minutes," she said, her eyes scanning the small screen. "Though with reservations for sudden traffic jams, obviously."

"Obviously," David agreed.

"I mean, the calculation could be wrong," she mused. "Which is why you need to be out here and text or call me as soon as you see him arrive. Tonight's fate is too important to be left up to Google."

"I don't know, man," David said, scratching his neck. "The day when we can no longer trust Google, we'll be in big trouble."

Annalise rolled her eyes, putting her phone back into her small purse.

David's smile faded, and a small wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows. "How do you know he's at his office? Does he usually work Saturday nights?"

Pressing her lips together tightly, Annalise shook her head. "He works late whenever I'm not around, especially when I haven't seen him in a while. He doesn't go there to work, but to... relax, I guess." She bit the inside of her cheek. "I get that it sounds weird, but it makes sense to him."

"So he goes to be alone in his office when he's feeling lonely," David stated incredulously.

"In a way, yes." Annalise took a step toward him. "If there's one thing you should know about my dad, it's that he doesn't run away from things. If he's lonely he doesn't drink or surround himself by friends; he sits alone and thinks about how he can stop being lonely. That is why I know he's at his office right now, and that is why I know he's coming."

Realization suddenly hit her, as the wind picked up a little, that she wasn't wearing anything but a thin dress. Goosebumps traveled up her arms and down her spine, making her whole body tremble.

"Are you cold?" David asked.

"Yeah, it's cold tonight," Annalise commented.

David nodded solemnly. "Well, if you're going to stand outside at night in nothing but a fancy dress that makes you look pretty then you've only got your own skinny ass to blame." His face broke out in a grin, flashing his white teeth, and making his eyes scrunch up.

"Shut up, asshole," Annalise said, biting back a smile as she lightly punched his arm. But when his words caught up in her mind, she narrowed her eyes. "Wait… fancy dress that makes me-"

"Come here, little idiot of mine," he said, stepping closer so that he could reach up and rub his mitten-clad hands up and down her bare arms.

"I'm not an idiot, you are," she countered, wrapping her arms around him and melting against his chest. His leather jacket was chilly on the surface, but his body radiated warmth underneath. "A rude idiot."

She heard him chuckle as she leaned her cold cheek against his chest. His heart beat fast and steady from what she could hear, and she felt his arms tighten around her. For some reason, she found herself frowning at their current situation. They had hugged before, plenty of times. She had learned in their time together that despite being a very introverted person, David was also a physical one. He _craved_ hugs. But this was somehow different.

The candles around them engulfed them in a dancing spectacle of light and shadows. The roses looked hauntingly beautiful in the light. All the while, she heard the thumping heartbeats echo in her ear, and she found herself in _the moment_.

When she leaned back from David and looked up at his face, he was already looking down at her with his round, brown eyes. She didn't know if David could feel it too, but she realized that she already knew. It was that simple. She just _knew_.

She stepped away from him, clearing her throat. "I better go back inside, but you make sure to text me, alright?"

"Yeah, I will," he said absently rubbing his hands together.

Slowly backing away, she pointed at him. "I mean it. The _second_ you see him-"

"Alright!" he exclaimed, laughing. "I've got it covered, I know the plan. You just worry about your part."

She watched him for a second, his short and stout figure, as he looked out over the street, and she wondered what her life would look like in ten or twenty years, and what their relationship would be like then. Because after having the moment, she just knew that no matter what her life would look like in the future, he would be there. The question was only which role he was going to play.

Turning on her heel, she went back inside with quick strides and paced through the entrance toward the reception venue. The sound of her heels echoed against the walls as she walked. She had her eyes set on the open double doors to the venue, still empty of people. It was strange, because the wedding should have ended by now. The guests should already have started to arrive, and so should Kurt have.

She found Rachel straight away, talking to the head of the catering company they had hired. But Rachel excused herself from the caterer as soon as she spotted Annalise.

"Listen," she said as soon as she'd caught up to Annalise's side. "I've been thinking about what you told Blaine, and I think it might have been a bad idea."

Annalise frowned. "What do you mean? You're the one who told me what Kurt said all those years ago. You're the one who told me to say it."

"The stuff about wanting Blaine to fight for him, yeah," Rachel said. "But the stuff about Kurt wanting the Big Gesture _tonight_, and not wanting words anymore? Are you sure it was a good idea to make that up? I mean, what if Blaine comes here and makes the Big Gesture and Kurt doesn't respond the way we want him to? It's not exactly fair to Blaine."

"What am I supposed to do about that now, huh?" Annalise said in annoyance. "Frankly, I would have said about anything to get him here. Blaine is afraid of taking the first step, but if someone takes it for him he has no troubles going the rest of the way."

"I just hope you are right about this," Rachel said, sighing.

She raised her eyes to look over Annalise's shoulder, and Annalise turned around to follow her gaze. Kurt stormed through the double doors, looking distraught and tired.

_If he was tired already, he'd be in for one heck of a night_, Annalise thought, trying not to feel guilty about setting both her parents up for potential disaster.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Rachel asked. "Why is no one here yet?"

"Because the wedding has been cancelled, Rachel," he said, running his hands over his face.

"The WHAT?!" she yelled, her eyes budging out of their sockets. "What do you mean? How did this happen?! Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Kurt exclaimed. "I was _there_."

"But how?" Rachel pressed. "What happened? Oh my god- what does this mean for us? Is this going to ruin our career? Did we screw up?"

Kurt went up to one of the tables and sat down on a chair. He looked exhausted, ready to call quits on the day.

"It wasn't because of us, Rach. It just wasn't right."

"What wasn't right?"

"Aisha and Thomas," he said calmly, scratching his head. "She'd been confused ever since the dress shopping, remember? And she couldn't do it."

Rachel's mouth was hanging open, as if there were so many questions at the tip of her tongue that they all wanted to fall out at once.

"Some guests are still coming here, though," he said absent-mindedly, fingers playing with the petals of a rose. "Mostly on the groom's side. They didn't want the food and the band to go to waste."

"So the show is still on?" Rachel asked instead.

"More or less." Kurt frowned. "Less, actually. Just less."

"Then I can finally get rid of this uncomfortable thing," Rachel said, grabbing the ear and mouth piece from her ear that she and Kurt wore at every wedding for easy communication.

Kurt looked up. "Yeah," he said, and got up from the chair. "I better go announce this to the personnel."

Once he had gone, Annalise grabbed Rachel's arm and dragged her across the room to make sure they were out of earshot in case Kurt would reappear.

"What are we going to do, Rachel?" Annalise whined. "This was so not part of the plan! Kurt was supposed to feel happy and wrapped up in blankets of love and happiness, not scraping the leftovers of a disastrous relationship!"

"I thought you said you thought Aisha's and Thomas's relationship was epic?" Rachel asked.

"Obviously not!"

"Don't worry," Rachel said. "I'll talk to Kurt and find out what really happened, then I'll assure him that everything will be fine and that we should still enjoy the reception and how great it turned out for the people who still showed up."

"Are you sure you can do all that in less than twenty minutes, before Blaine gets here to win him back?"

"I better, if-"

She stopped mid-sentence and stared across the room over Annalise's shoulder, with her eyes wide and horrified. Annalise turned and looked in the same direction. She only saw Kurt, but it took less than two seconds to see that his expression had changed completely from what it had been a minute ago. His mouth was agape and his eyes were wide as he seemed to be staring nowhere else but straight at them.

Annalise frowned. "What is he-?"

Her words were cut short and her heart plummeted down to her feet as she watched her dad across the room reach up to his ear and take out the earpiece still in it.

She turned back to Rachel, who was already staring at the earpiece with attached microphone still in her hands. Her finger flicked the small button to "_off_", looking up at Annalise apologetically.

_Oh no_, was the first thought that flashed through Annalise's mind.

This was _bad_.

* * *

_I wanna take this opportunity to thank everyone who goes out of their way to review this story. I really makes my day to hear what you think and to let me know that you appreciate this fic. After all, that's what makes it all worth it in the end. So thank you!_

_Only one chapter and an epilogue to go now! _


	22. Chapter 22

Better late than never? Maybe it isn't. I don't know if anyone cares about this fic anymore, but I promised I would finish it so here it is. Hope you enjoy how it ends :)

* * *

**KURT HUMMEL: RECEPTION HALL: SATURDAY NIGHT, FOUR MINUTES UNTIL**

* * *

Kurt realized that he – just as any other human being – had flaws. In his work, he always did his utmost to obtain perfection in the detail as well as the big picture. Yet this time he had been mistaken. What mattered was not always about how something appeared, but also how it felt.

As he sat on one of the beautiful Victorian chairs (those that were meant to have been used in the reception by every wedding guest instead of only the cheap ones on Thomas' side) he came to the conclusion that he had never sat on a more uncomfortable chair in his life.

That fact kept bugging him. How come he didn't try sitting on the chairs he picked out for his customers? Granted, the wedding between Aisha Lyle and Thomas Hayes never took place, but if it had, Kurt knew that he would have had to make sincere apologies afterward about the severe back aches and numb butts to the bride and groom.

Kurt sighed, turning a pink rose in his hands. The band him and Rachel had picked out was playing onstage, some guests were even dancing quite happily along to the romantic tunes, and the food on the buffet table looked delicious even if most of it was left untouched.

There was one more thing that bothered him: the fact that the wedding was called off. Not because of the bad reputation his company might get, or the lack of money or publicity. No, it was what Aisha said to him right before the wedding was called off.

_"__This is all wrong!" Aisha moaned, tugging at her veil in places so much that her hairdo was starting to fall apart. "This is not what's supposed to be."_

_"__Hey, hey, relax," Kurt tried, reaching his hands out to stop her, yet thought better of it and let them hang mid-air. "You look amazing."_

_"__Of course I do, I just…" Her struggling finally paid off, and she let the veil fall to the floor. _

_Kurt stared at her in silence. _

_She smiled sadly, a sort of crooked half-smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. _

_"__You know," she said, "I never thought Thomas would propose."_

_"__But he did," Kurt said softly. "After all you two have been through, you are finally getting your happy ending."_

_Aisha looked at her reflection in the mirror, running her hands over her flowy wedding dress. "That's just the thing: I don't want it to end."_

_"__It's just an expression," Kurt said lamely. _

_"__I know. But if I get married now, it really will be the end. We'll become one of those old, childless couples whose hobbies include dressing up petite dogs and binge-watching Martha Stewart."_

_Kurt momentarily removed the headset from his ear, in case anyone would be listening in at the other end. "You're just saying that because you're scared. That's okay. A lot of people freak out before they get married, it's just a part of the process."_

_"__I'm not freaking out, though," she said. "I could easily see myself in ten years, driving for hours just to go to a Farmer's market and all that. I think I would even be okay with that being the rest of my life. But it's not how I want my life to end. I want it to be spectacular; a tabloid rush. The whole excitement with Tom was that we were fighting the odds. We were never meant to be together forever. If I had spent my whole life with him from the moment we met, we'd gotten divorced by now along with everyone else. He was a thrill, and I loved him, but I swear that if I marry him now I will always regret it. It would kill our love, and our story was too great to end like this."_

Kurt just hadn't known what to say to that. He especially didn't know what to tell Blaine, if he ever appeared tonight. He could hardly believe the mischief Rachel and Annalise had been getting up to right under his nose. He hoped that Blaine would be the attentive one, see through the scam, and not show up at the venue that night.

_Then again_, Kurt thought as Blaine appeared through the velvety-draped curtain entrance to the reception hall, _Blaine was known for being oblivious_.

Blaine looked around the room with confused lines on his forehead. When his eyes landed on Kurt, he exhaled a long breath through his lips.

Kurt rose from the back-killing chair and walked slowly to meet Blaine on the dance floor.

"Hi," Blaine said. "Before you ask what I'm doing here, may I just have this dance?"

Kurt looked at the hand Blaine reached out for him.

"Wait, let me just say a few things first," Kurt said, making Blaine's face completely serious. "I know why you're here."

"You do?"

"Yes, I do." Kurt shook his head slowly. "This was all Annalise's idea. She tricked you into coming here."

"What?" Blaine breathed.

"I'm really sorry. I don't know everything she told you, but it was all a plan for us to get back together. She's been trying to make it happen for a while now, apparently."

"Wow, okay, that explains a lot," Blaine said, and laughed a breathy chuckle at the absurdity. "So everything was a hoax? I mean, I should have known. She did go quite over the top with her speech about how you wanted me to fight for you and how I was your only dream and all that."

Kurt's eyes grew wide. "Wait, she said that?"

Blaine blinked a few times, stunned silent for a moment. "Yeah," he breathed, then cleared his throat. "I mean, I kind of figured she was overselling something you'd said, but it also sounded like a very 'you' thing to say."

"That's because I did say it." When Blaine's eyes grew wide with surprise, Kurt elaborated. "But that was years and years ago. When we first split up. I guess Rachel must have told her that. Gosh, I can't believe she remembered that."

"Rachel was in on it, too?"

"To a certain extent, I think."

Blaine nodded. Now that they had established that it was all a scam, they didn't really have anything else to say.

"Well, then," Blaine said. "Now that that's been cleared up I guess I should head home. It was good seeing you."

"You, too."

Blaine turned around and started walking away, but he had only taken a few steps when the band started playing a new song.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night,_

_Take these broken wings and learn to fly._

Blaine stopped and looked at the band. When Kurt saw the wonder in his eyes and the parted lips that were just barely mouthing the words, that was when he realized it.

"Blaine," he called out to him, and took a few quick steps toward him to close up the space between them. "You're here."

Blaine raised his eyebrows, looking at Kurt like he was stupid. "Yeah?"

"I mean… you didn't know Annalise was lying to you. You came here, thinking what she'd said was true."

Blaine gulped, but stayed otherwise silent.

"Do you… want to get back together?"

"Kurt, I…" Blaine was visibly fighting for words for a few seconds. Then he placed his arms around Kurt's waist, making Kurt tense up for a second. "I don't know. I do still love you."

"Blaine-"

"No, let me finish. I know things have always been working against us. I know that so much time has passed since we were together that it would be nothing short of insane to start things up again. We're both different people now than we were when we were young and in love. Chances are that we would miss the person we first fell in love with and never quite be satisfied with what we've become. But… I love you, and if I still love you after all these years, what makes you think I could ever stop?"

"Oh, gosh, Blaine." Kurt shook his head and put his arms around Blaine's neck. "I don't know what to say."

Blaine shrugged. "Just say you didn't give up on your dream of spending your life with me."

Was it really that easy? Could he just say that he hadn't given up on them, and everything would somehow be okay again? Could they just go back to what they used to have?

When Kurt didn't reply, Blaine smiled. "It's okay, take as much time as you need to think about it. I'll be here, waiting. I promise. I will always be here."

* * *

**EPILOGUE - BLAINE ANDERSON: HOTEL BEDROOM: SUNDAY EARLY HOURS**

* * *

There was something different about his heart now, he thought. It was the same heart he'd always had, yet now the beats held a different rhythm. It was faster somehow, even though he felt really calm and relaxed. It was beating with a new fire fueling it, and it made him so giddy he couldn't go to sleep.

Instead of sleeping, he clasped his arms tighter around the man tangled up with him in bed, head on his shoulder and hand on his heart. His Kurt.

He had no idea what time it was, nor did he care. Nothing seemed to really matter anymore, at least nothing that didn't revolve around Kurt.

And that was how he knew: he was falling once again.


End file.
